ON  THE  WAR-PATH  • 


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THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


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;: 


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•  .      4 


ON  THE  WAR  PATH 


A   JOURNEY   OVER   THE    HISTORIC    GROUNDS    OF   THE 
LATE    CIVIL    WAR 


BY 

MAJOR  J.  O.  KERBEY 

U.    S.    CONSUL  AT   PARA,    BRAZIL,   S.    A.;     AUTHOR   OF    "THE   BOY   SPY 


CHICAGO 

DONOHUE,  HENNEBERRY  &  CO. 
1890 


i  <I|-M;II.II  i 
J.   O.   KKUIIRY 


'(XMOMUt  *  MIMIMMV, 


PREFACE. 


I  do  not  write  books  for  a  living.  This  statement  will 
be  no  less  gratifying  to  the  reading  public  than  it  is  to 
myself. 

Forsome  years,  I  have  been  a  Washington  news-gath- 
erer, trained  to  telegraph  special  facts  to  the  press  in  the 
fewest    possible  words.      Recently  becoming   one  of   the 
grand  army  of  office  seekers,  I  have  availed  myself  of  some 
£2     of  the  abundant  leisure  always  afforded  these  gentlemen, 
to  jot  down,  in  the  form  of  personal  reminiscences,  some 
;T     of  the  actual  experiences  and  incidents  coming  under  my 
observation,  which  have  never  been  printed  in  the  news- 
i:     papers,  and  which  are  herewith  submitted  without  any  pre- 
tense to  literary  embellishment. 

§!  The  only  motive  that  prompts  me  to  this  work  springs 

in      from  an  honest  and  sincere  desire  to  put  in  permanent 

g      form,  for  the   master-builder  or   future  historian,  some 

straws  that  may  be  used  in  the  mortar  that  cements  the 

coming  monumental  history  of  this  period. 

^  It  will  be  apparent  to  the  most  casual  reader  that,  in 

^     telling  so  many  things  that  are  sure  to  displease,  the  writer 

*     must  at  least  be  trying  to  be  truthful,  even  at  the  sacrifice 

LJ     or  at  the  expense  of  judgment  or  discretion. 

ui  Nor  has  there  been  any  feeling  of  bitterness  or  resent- 

H     fulness;  not  even  the  slightest  disposition  to  "get  even" 

<      with  anybody.     I  confess,  however,  to  an  inborn  inability 

to  obey  the  scriptural  injunction  to  turn  the  other  cheek. 

And,  though  enjoying  the  reputation  of  an  inoffensive  cit. 

izen,  it  is  my  nature,  without  much  regard  to  consequences, 

to  strike  back  at  any  one  who  may  attack. 


PREFACE. 

Mr.  Blainc,  with  wliom  I  have  had  the  distinguished 
honor  of  a  long  personal  acquaintance,  when  I  applied  to 
him  for  a  United  States  consulate,  very  kindly  said  to  me 
that  he  intended  to  do  something  in  that  direction,  his  only 
difficulty  being  in  finding  a  suitable  place,  or,  as  he  put  it: 
"  We  have  more  pegs  than  holes  to  put  them  in;  but  I'll 
find  a  hole  some  place  in  which  to  stick  you."  I  had  faith 
in  the  promise,  and  waited  some  time  for  my  turn.  He 
religiously  kept  his  word  and  found  a  hole. 

I  was  nominated  by  the  President  as  United  States 
Consul  to  an  important  port  at  the  mouth  of  the  Amazon, 
River,  in  the  new  Republic  of  Brazil,  the  object,  as  the 
Secretary  said,  being  to  afford  me  facilities  for  writing  up 
for  a  press  syndicate  the  possibilities  of  business  for  Amer- 
ican manufacturers  in  Central  and  South  America.  Dur- 
ing my  absence  from  the  city,  the  newspaper-row  ring  of 
Washington  insidiously  attempted  to  defeat  my  confirma- 
tion, by  resorting  to  some  of  their  usual  underhand  tactics. 
Their  animus  will  become  apparent  to  the  reader  of  these 
pages,  and  needs  no  further  comment.  However,  the 
Senate,  after  hearing  their  false  statements,  fully  endorsed 
me  by  confirmation,  and  then,  for  the  first  time  since  my 
enlistment  as  a  soldier,  I  subscribed  to  the  oath,  received 
a  parchment,  and  again  became  a  servant  of  the  Govern- 
ment. THE  AUTHOR. 

WASHINGTON,  D.  C.,  July  23,  1890. 


ON  THE  WAR-PATH. 


THIS  is  not  a  War  Story— 

I  succeeded  in  publishing  one*  in  which  I  told  every- 
thing that  I  knew  about  the  war — and  more  too — and 
have,  in  consequence,  a  double-edged  appreciation  of 
that  proverbial  aphorism  of  Job's,  "My  desire  is  *  *  * 
that  mine  adversary  had  written  a  book."  That  venture 
in  book-making  on  the  war  question  induced  the  belief 
that  war  writers  find  their  principal  adversaries  in  the 
ranks  of  comrades,  where  they  expected  friends. 

Probably  any  statement  of  minor  army  experience, 
however  well  fortified  by  official  record  and  the  testimony 
of  surviving  witnesses,  is  liable  to  be  disputed,  or  at  least 
provoke  controversy.  Instead  of  "fighting  them  over" 
in  a  spirit  of  fraternity  and  charity,  we  fight  over  them, 
too  often  with  a  feeling  of  bitterness  and  resentment. 

This  substantially  true  narrative  of  some  of  the  actual 
experiences  of  a  boy  during  the  rebellion  served  to  bring 
forth  hundreds  of  pleasant  testimonials  from  influential 
sources,  establishing  every  important  statement  of  fact, 
as  well  as  some  positive  denials  and  numerous  corrections. 

The  singular  fact  Avas  demonstrated  that  the  fiction 
was  almost  universally  accepted  as  truth,  while  the  actual 
experiences  were  disputed.  In  some  instances  voluntary 

*  "The  Boy  Spy,"  by  J.  0.  Kerbey. 


8  ON   THE   WAR-PATH. 

corroboration  was  tendered  for  minor  events  that  did 
not  occur  at  all. 

Through  this  source,  attention  was  directed  to  numer- 
ous disputed  historical  events,  and  much  valuable  infor- 
mation furnished  which  tended  to  throw  new  light  on  old 
subjects. 

With  a  view  of  further  developments,  the  author  of 
"The  Boy  Spy"  recently  undertook  another  scout  in 
Dixie,  visiting  all  the  important  points  on  the  war  trail 
from  Fortress  Monroe  via  the  Peninsula  to  Richmond  and 
Fredericksburg,  interviewing,  as  a  newspaper  scout,  a 
great  number  of  ex- Confederates,  who  unconsciously  gave 
some  interesting  testimony  from  the  "other  side"  that 
has  not  heretofore  been  made  public.  Our  own  side  has 
been  somewhat  overdone. 

From  Fredericksburg  the  writer  drove,  in  a  buggy,  over 
the  exact  ground  covered  "by  the  Army  of  the  Potomac  in 
its  historic  march  to  Gettysburg,  in  1863,  accompanied  by 
an  artist  and  a  photograpli  outfit. 

We  traveled  for  days  via  the  upper  fords  of  the  Rap- 
pahannock  to  Manassas  and  Ball's  Bluff,  thence  over  the 
Potomac  at  Point  of  Rocks  to  Frederick,  Antietam,  South 
Mountain,  Gettysburg,  etc. 

It  is  of  this  recent  scout,  through  the  enemy's  country 
for  later  information,  that  we  propose  to  tell  in  this  Iro- 
clinre,  and  perhaps  relate  some  interesting  stories  gathered 
en  route  from  all  residents  as  to  their  experiences  and 
remembrances  of  those  "  unforgotten  daye.'; 

That  the  reader  who  may  accompany  us  on  this  trip 
should,  have  a  better  understanding  of  its  purport,  it  seems 


ON   THE   WAR-PATH.  9 

necessary  to  briefly  make  a  resume  of  the  preceding  publi- 
cation. 

Fully  conscious  of  the  appropriateness  of  the  comment 
of  Disraeli,  that  the  author  who  speaks  of  his  own  book  is 
almost  as  bad  as  the  mother  who  talks  of  her  own  baby,  I 
venture  to  offer  the  review  of  the  official  journal  of  the 
Military  Service  Institution,  New  York,  January,  1890,  so 
ably  conducted  by  a  gallant  cavalry  officer,  who  has,  in 
these  days  of  peace,  wielded  his  pen,  as  a  military  author, 
with  as  much  honor  and  credit  to  himself  and  his  country 
as  he  did  his  sword  in  times  of  war. 

I  beg  to  present  my  army  father  and  captain,  under 
whom  the  Boy  Spy  served  at  the  front  in  the  famous  2d 
United  States  Cavalry,  Gen.  T.  F.  Rodenbaugh,  now  a 
retired  general,  well  known  in  military  as  well  as  in  literary 
circles,  and  who  is  probably  better  qualified  in  every  way 
to  speak  a  word  for  me  than  any  of  the  other  many  kind 
friends  who  have  tendered  their  good  words  and  wishes. 

I  have  not  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting  my  dear  old 
captain  since  the  war,  but  his  kindly  letters,  bearing  the 
2d  Cavalry  motto,  "  Ton  jours  Pret,"  are  always  most  wel- 
come. 

"  The  war  for  the  Union  is  remarkable  above  all  human 
conflicts  for  the  number  of  pens  that  have  sought  to  pre- 
serve its  history.  Realizing,  as  it  seems,  that  the  materi- 
als— the  bricks  and  the  mortar — must  be  gathered  together 
before  the  master-builder  can  begin  his  work  upon  the 
great  historical  edifice,  each  soldier  has  brought  forward 
his  'own  story*  of  skirmish,  or  battle,  or  campaign,  and 
in  imagination  lays  it  at  the  feet  of  the  coming  Homer  who 


10  UN   THE    WAK-PATH. 

shall  immortalize  American  valor.  One  of  the  latest  and 
most  important  of  these  '  literary  bricks  '  is  '  The  Boy  Spy ' 
— a  title  hardly  worthy  of  the  mass  of  valuable  information 
contained  in  its  500  pages;  for  it  is  not  a  juvenile  work, 
nor  does  it  consist  of  the  lurid  trash  too  often,  under  sim- 
ilar caption,  unloaded  upon  an  indiscriminating  commu- 
nity. Between  its  lines,  descriptive  of  the  author's  personal 
experience,  first  as  a  wild  youth  rushing  into  the  enemy's 
country  from  pure  love  of  adventure,  and  afterward  taking 
his  own  life  in  his  hands  as  an  experienced  soldier  and 
scout,  may  be  read  the  shaping  of  the  policy  of  a  great 
government;  the  slow  awakening  of  a  great  people  to  the 
public  danger;  the  rude  methods  at  first  resorted  to  in 
organizing  masses  of  armed  men,  and  the  intrigues  attend- 
ing the  appointment  of  their  leaders;  glimpses  of  the  per- 
sonality of  Presidents  Lincoln  and  Davis,  cabinet  minis- 
ters, commanding  generals  of  both  armies,  ilag  officers  and 
legislators,  in  moments  of  perplexity  or  triumph,  as  words 
fell  from  their  lips  in  the  confidential  atmosphere  of  the 
army  telegraph  offices,  or  under  the  strong  excitement  of 
the  battle-field. 

"Commencing  his  adventures  with  the  first  mutterings 
of  the  storm  in  1861,  and  with  the  aim  of  winning  his 
spurs  by  some  deed  of  daring  and  special  service  to  the 
Government,  we  find  the  '  Boy '  at  the  Confederate 
Capital,  Montgomery,  watching  the  gatherings  and  growth 
of  the  secession  flame.  Immediately  after  the  fall  of 
Sumpter,  slipping  through  the  lines  in  front  of  Fort 
Pick  ens  with  important  information  which  undoubtedly 
prevented  its  capture;  detained  on  board  Admiral  Porter's 


ON    THE    WAR-PATH.  11 

war  vessel  as  a  suspicious  character,  but  eventually  sent 
North  as  a  friend  of  the  Union;  at  once  re-entering  the 
enemy's  country  in  Virginia.  Imprisoned  in  the  Old  Cap- 
itol— as  he  says — for  no  other  offense  than  having  fallen 
in  love  with  a  pretty  little  girl  who  wore  short  skirts,  low 
neck  dressesr  played  the  guitar  sweetly  and  sang  Dixie; 
who  lived  between  the  two  armies  at  Fredericksburg. 
Escaped,  and  was  enlisted  in  the  regular  cavalry;  detailed 
on  special  service  before  Fredericksburg,  at  Burnside's 
headquarters,  and  taking  part  in  the  Stoneman  raid  as  a 
scout  and  expert  telegrapher  and  signalist. 

"  IN  TENNESSEE  AND  CUMBERLAND  GAP. — A  thrilling 
experience  at  Gettysburg.  Mingling  with  leading  Con- 
federates at  Richmond,  and  anon  with  senators  at  Wash- 
ington. Unconsciously  treading  the  tortuous,  dangerous 
path  of  Andre  and  Nathan  Hale,  with  the  possibility  of  a 
long  rope  and  short  shift  at  the  end. 

"In  the  action  of  this  true  tale,  the  reader  is  reminded 
now  of  Defoe,  then  of  Verne,  and  again  of  Charlie  King, 
although  it  lacks  the  literary  smoothness  of  those  writers. 

"  The  author  writes  as  he  acted  in  war  times — quickly 
and  intuitively,  as  well  as  fearlessly,  without  much  attention 
to  grace  of  diction.  As  he  expresses  it,  he  fires  low  to  hit 
the  masses,  and  he  calls  a  spade  a  spade.  He  bu ikied 
better  than  he  knew.  Through  the  coarse  web  of  priva- 
tion, wounds  and  war,  runs  the  silken  thread  of  the  tender 
passion,  giving  the  story  a  touch  of  romance  so  often 
omitted,  when  our  battles  are  fought  o'er  again  in  our 
dignified,  grandsire  moments. 

"  Besides  its  historical  data,  this  book  contains  interest- 


12  ON   THE   WAR-PATH. 

ing  biographical  material,  especially  regarding  Abraham 
Lincoln,  Jefferson  Davis,  Andrew  Johnson,  John  Covode, 
Simon  Cameron,  Edwin  M.  Stanton,  Ben  Wade,  Parson 
Brownlow,  Generals  Hancock,  Howard,  Fitz-John  Porter, 
Doubleday,  Burnside,  Hooker,  and  the  cavalry  service  of 
the  Army  of  the  Potomac." 

We  tip  our  fatigue  cap  with  grateful  thanks;  our  old 
uniform  bulges  out  with  pride,  as  we  request  the  General 
to  please  stand  to  one  side  'till  we  fling  another  "literary 
brick  "  at  the  master-builder  and  "t'other  fellows"  who 
have  been  throwing  mud  and  mortar. 


CHAPTEE 


£,  F  the  readers  for  the  time  being  will  individually  con- 
sider  themselves  members  of  a  "  Travel  Club,"  cor- 
1_   responding  to  the  recent  social  gatherings  organized 


for  mutual  entertainment,  and,  in  imagination,  accompany 
a  congenial  excursion  party  over  this  most  historic  ground 
in  America — permitting  me  to  act  as  guide — I  shall  esteem 
it  a  pleasant  privilege,  and  endeavor  to  point  out  and  de- 
scribe the  many  interesting  features,  as  we  go  along. 

The  professional  guide  of  Washington,  who  tenders 
tourists  his  valuable  companionship  at  fifty  cents  per  hour 
is  usually  fortified  by  a  large  brass  breast-plate  as  a  badge 
of  his  authority,  in  addition  to  the  brass  he  carries  in  his 
face.  My  only  license  will  be  that  granted  by  your  kind 
indulgence,  while  I  attempt  to  act  as  lecturer,  for  this 
personally-conducted  tour. 

"We  will  swing  our  club  around  Washington  one  day, 
before  carrying  it  to  the  front. 

As  every  tourist  desires  to  see  the  White  House  first, 
we  shall  make  that  a  starting  point. 

The  home  of  all  the  Presidents  since  Adams'  day,  has 
been  pictured  even  in  the  school-books,  so  that  it  will  be 
recognized  by  all,  and  a  description  is  unnecessary.  It  is 
probably  the  only  building  remaining,  that  will  be  at  all 
familiar  to  the  old  soldier.  The  magic  hand  that  has  so 
wonderfully  transformed  the  city,  has  not  yet  soiled  its 
white  walls  by  the  touch  of  modern  improvement. 

13 


14  ON  THE   WAR-PATH. 

Its  tall,  white  pillars  that  seem  to  stand  as  ghostly 
sentries  over  the  portals  of  the  white  sepulchered  tomb  of 
a  long  line  of  dead  Presidents  and  buried  ambitions, 
remind  me  of  the  early  morning  long  ago,  when  I,  as  a 
solitary  horseman,  with  uncovered  head,  was  one  of  a  few 
who  witnessed  the  body  of  the  assassinated  Lincoln  being 
borne  through  the  gates. 

The  night  previous,  I  had  been  roused  from  sleep  by 
an  order  to  take  charge  of  a  scouting  party  on  the  Ten- 
nellytown,  or  Rockville  Road,  and  arrest  every  person 
whatever  might  have  been  his  representations,  who  should 
be  found  attempting  to  leave  the  city  in  that  direction.  I 
was  then  a  Cavalry  officer,  detailed  on  special  signal  duty, 
and  the  order  addressed  to  me  was  supplemented  with  the 
startling  intellige7ice  that  an  attempt  had  been  made  an 
hour  previous  to  assassinate  the  President  at  Ford's  Theater. 
The  messenger  did  not  understand  that  the  shot  had  been 
fatal. 

After  a  night  of  restless  anxiety  in  the  saddle,  scouring 
the  country  in  the  vicinity  of  Fort  Reno — which  is  in  the 
neighborhood  of  ex-President  Cleveland's  summer  house, 
Oak  View — being  anxious  as  to  the  result,  and  with  a 
nervous  desire  for  later  intelligence,  in  the  early  morn- 
ing I  galloped  my  horse  across  the  northwest  section,  now 
occupied  by  the  palatial  residences  of  the  ultra  fashionable 
people,  reaching  this  part  of  the  avenue,  just  as  the  hearse 
turned  into  the  west  gate,  followed  only  by  those  who  had 
been  at  his  bed-side,  perhaps  less  than  a  dozen  persons  on 
foot,  with  heads  uncovered. 

Standing  near  the  gate  may  be  seen,  perhaps,  a  greater 


OK   THE   WAR-PATH.  15 

number  of  points  of  historic  memories  than  any  where  else 
in  the  city. 

In  that  plain-looking  old-fashioned  brick,  well  known 
as  the  Sickles-Key  house,  the  wounded  Secretary  of  State 
Seward,  then  resided.  It  is  now  the  home  of  Secretary 
Elaine.  His  next  door  neighbor  being  Senator  Don  Cam- 
eron. The  corner  house,  for  a  long  time  the  home  of  the 
famous  Commodore  Stephen  Decatur,  is  now  a  club;  diag- 
onally opposite  was  Senator  Simmer's  bachelor  home, 
now  an  annex  of  the  Arlington.  Close  by  is  Zack  Chand- 
ler's, where,  perhaps,  the  political  campaigns  were  planned 
during  reconstruction  days. 

The  little  adobe  structure  around  the  corner  that  looks 
so  like  a  Spanish  mission  chapel,  is  the  celebrated  St. 
John's  church,  where  it  is  said  some  of  our  Presidents  were 
attendants  because  the  rectors  did  not  bother  much  about 
politics  or  religion,  but  are  quite  exacting  as  to  the  respect- 
ability and  endorsements  of  those  seeking  fellowship  in 
that  fold. 

John  Hay,  the  private  secretary  to  Lincoln,  built  that 
elegant  house  on  the  next  corner.  Sandwiched  between 
him  and  the  philanthropist  banker,  Corcoran,  is  one  of  the 
descendants  of  the  Adams  family. 

On  the  opposite  of  this  little  park  in  front  of  the 
White  House",  which  is  said  to  contain  a  greater  variety  of 
shade  trees  than  any  other  like  area  in  America,  is  the 
plain-looking  home  of  General  Beale,  where,  it  is  said,  Gen- 
eral Grant  walked  over  from  the  White  House  every  morn- 
ing to  see  his  intimate  friend.  Near  by  was  the  home  of 
Colfax.  In  fact  the  walls  of  every  house  on  all  sides  of 
this  square  might  tell  some  interesting  stories. 


16  OK  THE  WAR-PATS. 

In  the  great  review  of  1865,  it  was  my  good  fortune  to 
be  located  on  the  east  side  directly  under  the  window  of 
the  second  house  from  the  avenue  at  which  the  venerable 
Genera]  Winfield  Scott  was  privately  seated,  with  glass  in 
hand,  reviewing  in  retirement,  the  grand  parade  of  a 
victorious  army  he  once  commanded.  It  so  happened  that 
General  Sherman,  after  refusing  to  shake  hands  with  Sec- 
retary Stanton  in  the  grandstand,  angrily  mounted  his 
horse  with  flushed  face,  dashed  by  us,  and  in  attempting 
to  force  his  way  out  of  the  crowd,  created  something  of  a 
sensation  to  the  intense  amusement  of  General  Scott. 
tVhen  the  handsome  Custer  at  the  head  of  his  gallant  cav- 
alry men  approached  the  reviewing  stand,  the  salute  of 
the  drum  corps  frightened  his  wild  horse,  and  becoming 
unmanageable,  dashed  past  the  assembled  dignitaries  at  a 
run-away  gait,  his  long  hair  streaming  behind — Custer, 
notwithstanding  the  scare,  saluted  with  his  sword  as  they 
passed. 

But  I  might  go  on  in  a  reminiscent  strain  adinfinitum. 
We  will  go  around  the  corner  and  pay  our  respects  to  one 
of  the  last  of  the  living  heroes  of  the  war,  Admiral 
David  D.  Porter. 

The  gallant  old  Salt  is  always  at  home  to  a  veteran  and 
many  needy  shipmates  leave  his  presence  with  substantial 
remembrances  from  the  "old  man,"  as  "tars"  will  persist 
in  terming  their  captain. 

He  is  quite  well  preserved,  physically;  and,  perhaps, 
mentally,  has  done  more  work  toward  preserving  the  Kaval 
history  of  the  war,  than  all  the  other  officers  combined. 
He  has  a  room  fitted  up  in  his  house  resembling  a  captain's 


ON   THE    WAR-PATH.  17 

quarters  aboard  ship — the  walls  covered  with  books  and 
charts,  and  the  tables,  around  which  are  seated  secretaries 
busy  writing,  are  piled  with  papers.  The  Admiral  recog- 
nizes me  as  the  "  boy  "  aboard  his  ship  at  Pensacola,  and 
in  a  jolly  way  expresses  his  regret  that  he  had  not  thrown 
me  overboard  because  I  described  my  first  impressions  of 
his  appearance  as  resembling  a  "model  pirate  with  black 
whiskers  and  a  devilish  uncertain  eye." 

Though  his  black  beard  is  now  white,  and  his  wicked 
eye  somewhat  dimmed,  the  Admiral  preserves,  in  a  remark- 
able degree,  his  old-time  vigor.  During  my  visit,  desiring 
to  show  me  a  book  of  reference,  he  climbed  upon  a  chair 
to  reach  a  top  shelf  and  jumped  down  as  lightly  as  a  boy. 
Admiral  Queen,  who  also  remembers  the  boy  very  well, 
lives  on  the'ultra  fashionable  avenue  on  which  reside  the 
Ambassadors  of  the  Russian  and  British  governments,  as 
well  as  lesser  foreign  representatives,  and  here  are  located 
the  two  Naval  statues  to  Farragut  and  Dupont. 

The  one  thing  that  will  probably  impress  the  old  soldier 
of  the  Army  of  the  Potomac,  on  revisiting  the  city,  is  a 
feeling  of  neglect  and  ingratitude  toward  the  residents  of 
the  National  Capital  and  especially  of  Congress,  at  the 
entire  absence  of  any  statue  commemorating  the  valor 
and  gallantry  of  the  commanders  of  the  Army  of  the 
Potomac.  The  most  available  locations  are  now  occupied 
by  fitting  tributes  to  Generals  Thomas  and  McPherson 
and  others  of  the  Western  armies. 

Perhaps  the  societies  of  the  Army  of  the  Potomac  are 
responsible  for  the  neglect.  At  Arlington,  which  may  be 
seen  from  the  rear  of  the  While  House,  there  sleep  in  their 


18  ON   THE   W  All- PATH. 

last  sleep,  an  army  of  twenty  thousand  who  died  in  defense 
of  this  Capitol.  The  only  monument  to  these  dead  heroes 
being  the  stone  erected  to  the  memory  of  the  1,300  un- 
known dead,  whose  bones  were  gathered  from  the  battle- 
fields in  the  surrounding  country  after  the  close  of  the  war. 

Admission  to  the  White  House  is  accorded  visitors  at 
certain  hours,  though  only  to  the  East  Room,  which,  in 
general  appearance,  somewhat  resembles  one  of  the  large 
carpeted  halls  devoted  to  ice-cream  parlors.  In  this  his- 
toric room  have  been  gathered,  in  past  years,  perhaps  a 
greater  number  of  distinguished  people  than  in  any  like 
area  in  the  country.  It  is  probably  safe  to  estimate  that 
everybody,  great  or  small,  known  to  American  history,  as 
well  as  their  families  and  friends,  have,  since  the  Adams 
administration,  been  in  the  East  Room,  as -also  distin- 
guished visitors  from  other  lands.  It  was  my  privilege,  as 
a  boy,  to  have  attended  Buchanan's  last  levee  as  well  as 
Lincoln's  first,  and  those  of  every  President  since.  I  may> 
perhaps,  venture  the  opinion,  from  close  observation,  that 
the  two  Democratic  ladies,  Harriet  Lane,  of  Pennsylvania, 
and  Mrs.  Cleveland,  have  been  the  most  popular  first 
ladies. 

Taking  advantage  of  the  license  accorded  a  newspaper 
scout,  we  slip  up-stairs  and  present  to  the  pleasant  Private 
Secretary  Halford  a  card  bearing  this  inscription  and  name, 
asking  its  presentation  to  the  President,  to  secure  an  open 
sesame: 

' '  A  Federal  and  a  Confederate  soldier  desire  to  pay  respects  to 
the  President." 

The  courteous  Secretary  looks  sharply  at  rny  compan- 


ON   THE   WAR-PATH.  19 

ion,  but  takes  the  card  in,  returning  with  a  smile,  inviting 
us  to  the  Library.  This  is  the  semi-circular  room  on  the 
south  side,  directly  in  the  center  of  the  building,  overlook- 
ing the  Potomac,  which  the  Presidents  occupy  as  the 
offices  where  public  business  is  transacted.  We  found 
probably  a  half-dozen  persons  seated  in  the  room.  Presi- 
dent Harrison  is  standing  by  the  window,  his  arm  raised 
and  fingers  playing  a  tatoo  on  the  glass,  as  he  talks  vigor- 
ously to  a  certain  Western  senator,  whose  ignorance  and 
arrogance  are  only  exceeded  by  his  money.  With  the  pro- 
verbial big  ears,  I  overheard  the  President  say,  in  tones 
so  decided  that  I,  as  a  newspaper  man,  should  have  felt 
rebuffed:  "I  tell  you  I  won't  do  that,  Senator,  and  I  told 
Mr. the  same."  When  the  senator  attempted  to  dis- 
cuss the  subject  further,  the  President  deliberately  turned 
his  back  and  walked  over  toward  "  the  next,"  which  hap- 
pened to  be  the  Eebel  and  the  Yankee.  I  had  reported 
for  a  Western  paper  the  President's  debates  on  Dakota  when 
in  the  Senate,  and  in  this  way  became  personally  known 
to  him.  He  shook  hands  and  cordially  greeted  my  Rebel 
friend,  who  was  made  to  feel  quite  comfortable  in  the 
White  House.  The  President  was  probably  glad  to  see  us, 
because  we  did  not  stay  long. 

But  we  shall  have  to  hurry  along.  As  our  time  in  Wash- 
ington is  so  limited  we  will  next  go  to  the  top  of  the  monu- 
ment. It  takes  but  nine  minutes  for  the  elevator  to  travel 
the  500  feet,  and  upon  that  elevation  we  shall  be  able  to  see 
more  in  the  ten  minutes  than  in  a  day  down  below. 

Toward  the  north  is  the  White  House  that  resembles  a 
tiny  toy.  Beyond  are  the  hills,  which  were  fortified  during 


20  ON   TTIE   TVAR-PATH". 

the  war.  With  a  glass  the  remains  of  Fort  Stevens  may 
be  discerned.  This  is  the  point  Early  directed  his  raid  on 
the  city,  when  the  6th  corps  came  up  the  river  and  dis- 
couraged any  further  attempts  in  that  direction.  Lincoln 
stood  on  the  parapet  of  the  fort  when  the  skirmish  was 
going  on.  To  the  west  is  the  Arlington  National  Ceme- 
tery ;  beyond  may  be  seen,  on  a  clear  day,  the  heights  of 
Centreville,  with  probably  a  distant  view  of  Bull  Kun 
Mountains.  To  the  south  lies  the  beatftiful  Potomac,  wind- 
ing like  a  ribbon  to  the  sea.  Right  below  us  one  may  get  a 
proper  idea  of  the  magnitude  of  the  importance  of  the 
reclaiming  of  the  river  flats.  Close  by  is  the  Bureau  of 
Printing  and  Engraving,  where  the  paper  money  is  manu- 
factured. 

In  the  east  lies  the  beautiful  park,  known  as  the  Mall, 
extending  in  a  broad  expanse  of  luxuriant  verdure  to  the 
Capitol  Grounds  a  mile  distant. 

In  this  park  are  located  the  Agricultural  Department 
and  its  experimental  gardens,  the  Smithsonian  Institute 
building,  which  is  said  to  be  the  most  graceful  bit  of  arc- 
hitecture in  the  city.  It  looks  quite  ancient  and  foreign 
with  its  towers  and  gables,  being  covered  with  clinging 
ivy,  adds  very  much  to  its  attractiveness.  In  the  rear  of 
Smithsonian  is  the  nucleus  of  the  projected  National  Zoo 
Gardens,  which  are  intended  to  preserve  specimens  of  all 
American  species. 

Close  by  is  the  National  Museum.  This  is  a  centennial 
exposition  somewhat  condensed. 

I  am  not  considered  a  competent  guide  here.  In  fact 
I  have  been  charged  with  purposely  losing  visiting  friends 


ON   THE   WAR-PATH.  21 

in  this  place.     It's  simply  immense  and  must  be  seen  to  be 
appreciated. 

The  Medical  Museum  which  adjoins  is  another  inter- 
esting place  for  those  who  like  to  see  horrible  things  pre- 
served in  alcohol — bones,  skeletons,  plaster  casts  of  war 
wounds,  etc. 

The  Botanic  Gardens  contain  everything  in  the  way  of 
flowers,  and  under  its  glass  roof  one  may,  in  the  depth  of 
winter,  imagine  one's  self  in  a  tropical  land. 
•  Hurrying  along  up  Capitol  Hill  through  this  errand 
park  we  encounter  a  solitary  tree  on  the  South  side  grow- 
ing in  the  middle  of  the  broad  walk.  This  is  known  as 
the  Henry  Clay  tree,  a'nd  the  woodman's  ax  spared  it 
because  old  Simon  Cameron,  then  a  senator,  threatened 
to  shoot  any  one  that  would  destroy  the  tree  that  was 
Clay's  special  admiration. 

On  the  east  side  of  the  Capitol,  directly  opposite  the 
Senate,  may  be  seen  one  of  the  old  landmarks,  the  Old 
Capitol  Prison  once  used  as  the  Capitol  and  during  the 
war  famous  as  a  prison  for  "  suspects" —  or  disloyal  sub- 
jects. What  wonderful  stories  these  old  walls  might  reveal 
if  they  could  but  tell  one-half  of  the  sorrows  and  troubles 
that  have  been  buried  in  their  depths. 

I  never  pass  it  without  looking  up  to  "  My  Window" 
expecting  to  see  the  ghost  of  my  former  self  looking  out. 
I  recently  took  a  photograph  of  this  building,  and  to  those 
who  may  be  curious  as  to  the.  place,  I  shall  be  glad  to  sup- 
ply copies  to  the  club. 

It  is  soon  to  be  torn  down  to  make  room  for  the  new 
Supreme  Court  building  which  is  to  occupy  this  cite, 


22  ON   THE   WAR-PATH. 

corresponding  to  that  of  the  new  Congressional  Library 
on  the  opposite  square. 

The  old  building  was  remodeled  into  a  block  of  fine 
residences,  in  one  of  which  Senator  Spooner,  of  Wisconsin, 
is  now  living. 

It  is  of  course  luxuriantly  furnished,  but  I  recently 
told  the  laughing  Senator  that  I  wouldn't  sleep  inside  of 
his  house.  Nothing  could  ever  efface  from  my  mind  the 
feelings  that  the  very  walls  are  permeated  with  the  army 
"  bug  "  that  I  know  once  infested  its  walls  as  numerously 
as  grains  of  sand  in  the  plaster  on  its  walls. 

Belle  Boyd  whom  I  knew  in  Old  Capitol  Prison,  recently 
wrote  me  in  regard  to  identification.  She  is  now  lectur- 
ing before  G.  A.  R.  Posts  throughout  the  country  on  her 
experience  as  a  Itebel  Spy.  Enclosing  a  photograph  of 
herself  disguised  in  the  costume  of  a  Confederate  Cavalry 
officer.  She  wrote  beneath  it :  "  You  see  I  pants  for 
fame."  There  is  no  doubt  of  her  identity,  or  of  the  fact 
that  she  did  good  service  for  the  Confederates. 

The  following  is  a  copy  of  an  autograph  letter  from 
Belle  Boyd,  the  Kebel  Spy: 

"  LIBRY,  PENN.,  Feb.  25, 1889. 

"  Dear  Tiny  Sp>/.  -Your  letter  was  received  amid  the  tumult  of  battle- 
is  my  heart  and  head  ever  right— over  my  identification  being  mixed  with 
Bell  Starr's  death,  hence  apology  for  delay  in  writing.  I  remember  you  in 
the  old  Capitol,  as  I  recall  you  having  rather  curly  hair,  a  slight  mustache 
and  dark  blue  eyes,  rather  a  handsome  fellow.  Am  I  right?  And  I  remem- 
ber Buxton,  Frank  Lacy  Buxton,  of  Buxton  Hall,  England,  our  English 
friend.  I  will  Avrite  you  a  letter  at  earliest  leisure. 

"BELLE  BOYD,  REBEL  SPY." 

A  description  of  the  Capitol  building  need  not  be 
attempted.  Its  magnificent  proportions  are  familiar  to 
every  American  through  the  illustrations  in  school  books 
and  histories. 


OX   THE    WAR- PATH.  23 

The  grand  stairway  approaches  to  the  Grecian  portals  of 
the  Senate  and  House  rotunda,  on  the  eastern  or  real  front, 
are  seldom  used.  Instead  of  entering  through  the  massive 
bronze  doors,  we  will  follow  the  crowd  into  the  dungeon- 
like  passage  beneath  the  grand  steps,  and  grope  our  way 
in  the  dimly-lighted  interior  through  the  crypt  to  the 
rotunda. 

Here  we  will  find  seated  in  an  arm-chair,  on  the  south 
side,  a  fine-looking  old  gentleman,  with  gray  hair  but  erect 
military  bearing,  in  blue  uniform,  whose  genial  counte- 
nance invites  the  tourist  to  propound  questions. 

This  is  my  old  friend,  General  P.  H.  Allabach,  for  a 
long  time  chief  of  the  Capitol  police  force,  who  in  his 
courteous  way  will  detail  you  a  suitable  guide  to  the  build- 
ing, and  relieve  me  of  that  tiresome  duty. 

Because  of  a  striking  resemblance  in  personal  appear- 
ance to  Capt.  Bassett,  the  familiar  Sergeant-at-Arms  of  the 
Senate,  these  two  officials  are  known  as  the  Capitol 
Dromios. 

It  would  be  difficult  to  find,  however,  any  two  persons 
who  were  more  unlike  in  other  respects.  General  Allabaugh 
is  the  veteran  of  two  wars,  and  enjoys  the  distinguished 
honor  of  having  personally  led  the  last  desperate  onslaught 
of  Burnside's  army  on  Marye's  Heights,  during  which  he 
lost  700  men  and  had  his  horse  killed. 

While  quite  undemonstrative  and  modest,  the  old  hero 
has  quite  decided  convictions  on  the  war  question  as  well 
as  of  matters  of  current  events,  and  is  not  afraid  to  express 
an  opinion  when  called  upon.  When  disorderly  visitors  or 
innumerable  cranks,  that  are  daily  attracted  to  the  building 


24  ON   THE   WAR-PATH. 

under  his  charge,  give  his  force  too  much  trouble  and 
annoy  members,  lie  does  not  hesitate  in  obeying  orders, 
and  fires  them  out  unceremoniously.  If  he  does  not  talk 
much,  perhaps  he  thinks  in  a  profane  language  sometimes. 

On  the  other  hand,  Sergeant-at-Arms  Bassett,  who  en- 
joys the  same  military  title  of  Captain,  has  been  an  em- 
ploye of  the  Senate  for  fifty-nine  consecutive  years,  and  in 
that  time  three  wars  have  come  and  gone,  which  did  not 
disturb  for  a  day  the  serenity  and  repose  of  this  faithful 
government  employe.  He  has  also  passed  safely  through 
all  the  administrations  from  the  days  of  Polk.  He  has 
known  by  personal  contact  all  the  senators  from  Webster 
to  the  present,  and  been  a  witness  on  the  Senate  floor  and 
in  Executive  Session  to  all  the  stirring  events  that  have 
occurred  in  these  years.  Yet  this  mild,  courteous  old 
official  has  never  been  known  to  express  an  opinion,  and  a 
news-gatherer  would  as  soon  think  of  appealing  to  one  of 
the  statues  in  the  niches  of  the  Senate  walls  for  an  item 
of  news,  as  to  approach  Capt.  Bassett  for  an  idea. 

He  has  been  a  consistent  member  of  the  Presbyterian 
Church  for  sixty  years.  It  was  my  pleasure  to  have  sat  at 
the  same  table  with  him  daily  for  a  long  time,  and  the  only 
words  that  escaped  from  him  were  the  reverential  grace  he 
was  accustomed  to  offer. 

Both  of  these  officials  are  Democrats,  their  positions 
are  outside  the  protection  of  the  Civil  Service,  yet  a 
Republican  Senate  and  House  have  wisely  and  consider- 
ately retained  them  in  service. 

After  a  hurried  walk  we  will  take  a  front  seat  in  the 
Senate  gallery,  for  a  rest.  It  is  the  most  restful  place  in 


ON    THE    WAK-PATH.  25 

the  big  building,  and  a  few  moments  here  will  serve  to 
soothe  your  nerves  after  a  visit  to  the  distracting  House 
galleries. 

The  Senate  is  quite  dignified,  and  we  shall  have  to  be 
quite  decorous  in  its  august  presence. 

Yes,  I  think  I  know  them  all  by  sight,  and  can  point 
out  those  most  prominent.  I  should  be  glad,  however,  to 
answer  any  questions  (by  mail),  as  I  find  that  to  be  most 
satisfactory  to  visitor  and  guide. 

I  was  a  boyish  attendant  in  this  gallery  during  the  last 
days  of  the  session  preceding  the  war,  when  Douglas 
occupied  that  seat  now  filled  by  a  Delaware  senator,  and 
John  J.  Crittenden  had  the  corner  that  Mr.  Frye,  of 
Maine,  holds  down.  Mr.  Seward,  I  think,  had  the  seat  on 
this  side  which  was  afterward  filled  by  Sumner  and 
Conkling. 

There  was  a  good  deal  of  excitement  in  those  days, 
when  the  leading  Southern  men,  like  Jeff.  Davis,  were 
almost  daily  seceding. 

The  gentleman  in  the  chair  is  not  always  the  Vice- 
president,  who  is  the  presiding  officer  by  virtue  of  his  elec- 
tion by  the  people.  The  waspish  gentleman  with  a  large 
head  and  glasses  and  thin  waist  is  Mr.  Ingalls,  the  Eepub- 
lican  President  of  the  Senate  pro  fern.,  by  choice  of  Repub- 
lican senators.  He  looks  as  if  he  were  excessively  bored 
by  the  duties.  I  presume  they  honored  him  with  this 
place  to  keep  him  from  talking  too  much  on  the  floor. 
He  is  a  buzz-saw  when  he  gets  started. 

To  the  right  of  the  chair  is  the  Democratic  side.  The 
venerable-looking  man  in  the  front  row,  who  reminds  me 


26  ON   TIIE    WAR-PATH. 

% 

of  a  Mormon  elder,  is  ex-Gov.  Jo.  Brown,  of  Georgia.  By 
the  way,  the  Southern  States  have  a  practice  of  sending 
their  ex-governors  to  the  Senate,  even  if  they  were  govern- 
ors of  the  Confederate  States.  The  senator  nearest  Brown 
is  Harris,  of  Tennessee,  who  is  probably  the  best  parlia- 
mentarian on  the  floor,  and  promptly  comes  to  their  res- 
cue when  in  a  tangle  on  some  point  of  order,  a  discussion 
of  which,  by  the  way,  seems  to  consume  half  the  time. 

The  handsomest  man  on  the  floor  sits  next,  Gen.  M.  C. 
Butler,  of  South  Carolina.  He  lost  a  leg  at  Brandy  Sta- 
tion, in  Virginia,  where  I  happened  to  be  also,  but  on  the 
opposite  side.  He  is  a  most  courteous  gentleman,  and, 
although  an  ex-Rebel  and  a  fire-eating  Democrat,  he  and 
the  Republican  Don  Cameron,  of  Pennsylvania,  are  inti- 
mate friends.  The  English-looking  person,  Gen.  Wade 
Hampton,  of  South  Carolina,  with  iron-gray  side-whiskers, 
reading  a  paper  on  the  back  row.  Alongside  of  him  is 
Governor  Vance,  of  North  Carolina,  a  jolly,  good-natured 
ex-Rebel;  General  Ransom,  his  colleague,  was  on  Marye's 
Heights  when  Allabach's  brigade  charged. 

The  tall,  fine-looking  man  with  long  black  hair  is  Gen- 
eral Walthall,  of  Mississippi,  a  typical  ex-Confederate  who 
succeeded  Mr.  Lamar.  That  gentleman  going  along  on 
two  crutches  is  Mr.  Berry  of  Arkansas.  He  left  the  other 
leg  in  the  Confederacy. 

I  believe,  without  exception,  every  senator  from  a 
seceded  state,  was  either  a  Confederate  officer,  governor,  or 
legislator. 

Mr.  Reagan,  of  Texas,  whom  I  knew  in  Richmond,  was 
Jeff  Davis'  Postmaster  General,  while  Vest,  of  Missouri,  was 


ON   THE    WAR-PATH.  27 

in  the  Confederate  Congress  at  the  same  time.  My  obser- 
vation and  experience  have  shown  that  these  "rebel"  sena- 
tors are  invariably  clever  men,  personally,  and,  if  the  time 
should  ever  come,  they  will  be  the  first  to  take  arms  in  de- 
fense of  the  whole  country,  either  from  attack  without,  or 
insurrection  within  the  re-united  States. 

On  the  Republican  side,  the  Union  soldiers  are  becoming 
thinned  out.  Since  Logan's  death  the  only  two  prominent 
ones  are  Generals  Hawley,  of  Connecticut,  and  Manderson, 
of  Nebraska. 

Col.  M.  S.  Quay,  whom  everybody  wants  to  see,  is  in 
poor  health  and  seldom  in  his  seat,  was  an  officer  at 
Marye's  Heights.  He  is  a  most  unobtrusive,  kind-hearted 
gentleman,  who  suffers  in  silence  the  bitter  attacks  from 
those  who,  by  his  good  management,  have  become  disap- 
pointed sore-heads. 

In  personal  appearance  I  imagine  he  is  about  such  a 
looking  person  as  Ben  Butler  may  have  been  at  his  age. 

They  are  quite  dignified  down  there  on  the  floor,  and  a 
looker-on  might  imagine,  from  their  savage  manner  and 
stinging  speeches,  that  the  sections  were  about  ready  to  go 
to  war  again;  but  if  you  could  get  into  these  cloak  rooms 
under  the  galleries,  or  peer  behind  the  scenes  into  com- 
mittee rooms,  where  a  "  Rebel  and  a  Yankee"  may  be  found 
almost  any  time,  sampling  Congress  water,  or  lounging  on 
the  elegant  sofas,  smoking  and  telling  humorous  stories  of 
the  war,  you  would  become  impressed  witli  the  truthful- 
ness of  the  Shakespearean  quotation,  "All  the  world's  a 
stage, "  and  senators,  like  other  human  beings,  are  only 
actors. 


28  ON   THE   WAR-PATH. 

Attention  is  diverted  to  the  reporter's  gallery  by  the 
loudness  of  a  few  occupants,  who,  by  frequent  exhibitions 
of  their  ill  manners  annoy  and  abuse  the  courtesj  of  the 
Senate,  which  grants  to  the  press  at  large  the  exclusive 
privilege  of  this  convenient  gallery  over  the  Vice-pres- 
ident's desk.  In  the  minds  of  some  of  these  conceited 
news  manufacturers  there  is  a  greater  aggregation  of 
wisdom  and  statesmanship,  honesty  and  purity,  than  is 
assembled  on  the  floor  of  the  Senate.  They  are  so  like 
buzz  flies  and  crickets  that  I  am  constrained  to  suggest  a 
sentence  from  Edmund  Burke,  which  seems  'so  generally 
applicable  to  both  their  methods  and  their  work:  "Because 
a  half-dozen  grasshoppers  under  a  protecting  fence  make 
a  field  ring  with  their  importunate  chink,  whilst  thou- 
sands of  great  cattle  repose  or  chew  the  cud  and  are  silent, 
pray  do  not  imagine  that  those  who  make  the  noise  are 
the  only  inhabitants,  that  after  all,  though  many  in  num- 
ber, they  are  other  than  the  little,  hopping,  loud  and 
troublesome  insects  of  the  hour/' 

There  is  also  provided  for  the  press  a  large  room  in  the 
rear  of  the  gallery,  which  is  furnished  handsomely,  gra- 
tuitously supplied  with  every  convenience:  stationary, 
messengers,  pages,  telegraph  offices,  etc.,  where  the 
news-gatherers  assemble  to  exchange  lies,  or  abuse  each 
other,  ventilate  their  personal  grievances,  put  up  jobs  and 
file  their  "specials"  at  the  telegraph  office,  which  are 
daily  published  as  "reliable"  by  the  sensational  press 
throughout  the  country. 

I  venture  the  opinion  that  the  average  "well-known 
correspondent"  is  a  mighty  uncertain  quantity,  and,  gen- 


OK  THE  WAR-PATH.  29 

erally  speaking,  a  bad  lot  and  devilish  unreliable.  I  ought 
to  know,  as  I  have  been  one  of  them  myself.  Where  he  is 
. "  well  known "  no  especial  honors  are  attached  to  this 
generic  gentleman.  I  have  parted  with  my  aspirations  in 
this  direction  and  retired  to  private  correspondence.  For 
many  years  after  the  war  I  was  in  charge  of  the  press  tel- 
egraph business  in  that  room,  and  in  addition  to  the 
regular  proceedings  of  the  Senate,  I  handled  all  their 
"  special"  copy,  and  subsequently  got  into  the  swim 
as  a  "regular." 

The  correspondents  became  pretty  "well  known"  to 
me,  and  I  might,  perhaps,  be  able  to  relate  some  "  good 
stories  "  about  them  that  they  are  so  eager  to  print  about 
public  men. 

The  representative  of  a  New  York  daily,  upon  being 
requested  to  correct  his  statement  confounding  Senator 
John  Sherman  with  a  real  estate  agent  of  the  same  name 
who  was  engaged  in  the  Washington  real  estate  boom, 
declined,  because,  as  he  said,  <s  It  was  a  pity  to  spoil  a  good 
story."  The  same  reporter  published  matter  of  a  sensa- 
tional character  relating  to  a  certain  Western  senator's 
family  affairs,  but  promptly  made  a  correction,  after  the 
senator  made  a  brief  call  upon  him,  in  which  he  quietly 
remarked,  "You  can  publish  anything  you  choose  abou't 
myself  as  a  public  man,  but  if  you  ever  mention  my 
family  again,  I  will  kill  you  precisely  as  I  would  a  rat,"- 
and  he  meant  it.  This  reporter  is  well  known  as  a  hen- 
pecked husband;  the  talk  was  that  his  wife  dictated  such 
matters,  and  he  had  to  go  to  bed  when  she  said  so. 

Of  course  there  are  very  many  honorable  gentlemen 


30  ON   THE    WAR-PATH. 

who  represent  first-class  journals,  whose  characters  are 
beyond  question,  and  who  confine  themselves  to  legitimate 
journalism  ;  but  these  are  the  exceptions. 

One  of  the  oldest  in  years,  as  weil  as  in  continuous  ser- 
vice, enjoying  the  honors  as  the  Nestor  of  the  press,  has 
earned  quite  a  reputation  as  a  fearless  exponent  of  the 
wrong  doings  and  intents  of  public  men.  He  is  a  hard 
hitter  through  the  columns  of  the  paper,  which  has  pro- 
moted, to  the  f  ullest  extent,  the  development  of  this  crank. 
Yet  before  the  ink  may  be  dry  in  a  wicked  attack  on  a 
public  man,  the  same  pen  will  rush  to  the  unjust  defense 
of  any  one  of  the  newspaper  ring  whatever  may  be  the 
charges  against  him.  His  sins  of  "omission"  are  not 
recorded  in  this  world. 

No  one  cares  to  provoke  controversy  alone  with  an 
enemy  surrounded  by  friends,  who  has  unlimited  facilities 
for  attack,  and  no  opportunity  is  afforded  to  repel. 

His  integrity  and  purity  of  personal  character  are  un- 
questioned, though  it  is  known  that  General  Sherman,  upon 
being  assailed  by  this  knight  of  the  pen,  abruptly  retorted 
that  "he  believed  this  correspondent  would  slander  his 
own  mother  for  money."  An  attempt  to  involve  the  old 
hero  in  an  official  action  for  this  charge  resulted  in  failure. 
When  an  effort  to  compromise  or  to  secure  a  retraction,  was 
made  by  a  conciliatory  remonstrance  which  was  more  cour- 
teous than  the  original  attack  had  been,  to  the  effect  that  "it 
was  a  pretty  hard  thing  for  the  General  of  the  army  to  pub- 
licly accuse  a  man  of  a  willingness  to  slander  his  mother." 
Old  Tecumseh  replied,  "Yes,  it  is  a  hard  thing  to  say;  but 
I  believe  it  of  you." 


Otf  THE  WAR-PATH.  31 

Though  at  the  head  of  the  Washington  Bureau  of  a 
prominent  Kepublican  newspaper  of  Cincinnati  it  is  noto- 
rious that  during  the  Elaine  and  Logan  campaign,  he  was 
a  most  bitter  and  virulent  enemy  of  the  head  of  the  Repub- 
lican ticket,  probably  because  the  wives  of  these  fcwo  gen- 
tlemen were  not  congenial. 

Though  nominally  at  the  head  of  the  paper  here,  he  has 
been  relieved  of  a  portion  of  his  duties  by  a  brilliant 
unmuzzled  pen.  He  now  amuses  himself  by  writing  letters 
to  his  paper  after  the  manner  of  the  old  ladies  who  sub- 
scribe themselves  "constant  or  indignant  reader,"  who 
complain  of  fast  driving  on  the  street,  or  protest  against 
the  dust,  object  to  the  crowing  of  chickens  too  early  in 
the  morning,  or  find  fault  with  the  flavor  of  the  water 
supplied  the  city. 

As  he  is  physically  incapable  of  personally  gathering  any 
of  the  facts  relating  to  the  numerous  charges  of  a  public 
character,  it  follows  that  some  official  sore-heads  furnish 
the  material,  using  this  method  to  ventilate  their  per- 
sonal grievances  as  a  sort  of  sewer.  He  may  be  seen 
accompanied  by  a  little  shepherd  dog  who  is  used  to  round 
up  the  stray  sheep. 

His  next-door  neighbor  on  newspaper  row,  was  the 
Washington  manager  of  a  Chicago  Republican  daily,  who 
claimed  to  control  its  policy,  as  well  as  edit  its  pages  by 
special  wire  from  Washington.  This  person  also  did  every- 
thing in  his  power  to  embarrass  the  campaign,  because  of 
a  personal  antagonism  to  the  second  man  on  the  ticket. 

General  Logan  had  threatened  to  club  him  for  an 
unlimited  libellous  attack  of  a  personal  character. 


32  ON  THE   WAR-PATH. 

As  a  reward  for  his  "  special  services  "  in  behalf  of  Mr. 
Arthur's  nomination  at  Chicago,  this  correspondent  was 
appointed  to  a  position  of  "disbursing"  agent  for  a  junk- 
eting commission. 

When  the  question  of  confirmation  subsequently  came 
up  in  the  Senate,  Mr.  Logan  objected  on  the  ground  that 
this  Republican  correspondent  of  his  home  paper,  had 
offered  to  furnish  the  chairman  of  the  Democratic  cam- 
paign committee  with  material  to  be  used  against  Logan 
in  the  canvass.  The  General  appealed  to  Senator  Gorman, 
Democratic  chairman,  who,  rising  in  his  place,  stated  that 
Logan's  charge  was  true,  and  the  name  was  turned  down. 
This  little  item  of  executive  sessions  the  correspondents 
were  not  so  eager  to  publish. 

The  gentlemen  of  the  press  became  as  greatly  agitated 
as  a  swarm  of  bees  whose  hive  had  been  upset,  and  at 
once  began  buzzing  around  the  senators  to  their  great 
annoyance,  printing  all  sorts  of  criticisms  for  hesitating 
to  accept  one  of  their  number  who  had  been  proven  treach- 
erous to  his  party  and  friends. 

Subsequently,  during  the  absence  of  Logan,  he  was 
confirmed,  made  the  tour  with  oneot  the  three  commission- 
ers, and  on  his  return  disbursed  §11,000  in  payment  for  a 
house. 

That  ghoulish-looking,  hard  face  is  protected  by  a 
rhinoeerous  skin.  He  has  objected  to  every  new-comer 
that  has  presumed  to  invade  the  exclusive  precincta 
of  Washington  journalism,  and  was  himself  dismissed 
from  a  Chicago  Republican  paper  for  his  arrogance  and 
jobbery,  and  now  has  a  merely  nominal  connection  with  a 


OK  THE   WAR-PATH.  33 

Chicago  Democratic  paper,  under  the  protection  of  which 
he  continues  his  vocation  of  lobbyist. 

It  was  my  fortune  to  have  attended,  as  an  expert  press 
telegrapher,  all  of  the  great  National  Nominating  Con- 
ventions. 

It  was  undoubtedly  the  machinations  of  this  cabal,  then 
existing,  that  succeeded  in  defeating  Mr.  Colfax,  and 
precisely  the  same  influences  have  sought  to  prevail 
against  Mr.  Elaine. 

There  will  probably  always  be  a  newspaper  ring  in 
Washington.  A  new-comer,  who  is  objectionable  or  does 
not  soon  conform  to  the  existing  conditions,  is  soon  made 
away  with  in  a  business  sense. 

Ben:  Perley  Colon  Poor  and  his  contemporaneous  jour- 
nalists have  disappeared.  The  Jewish-faced  gentleman 
who  wears  his  bustle  in  front,  is  his  double  successor.  It 
is  said  he  married  the  Boston  paper.  No  one  ever  accuses 
this  accomplished  journalist  of  any  sort  of  jobbing, 
though  he  is  said  not  to  deceive  his  looks,  and  is  so  stylish 
that  he  wants  the  "airth  " — what  to  him  is  the  newspaper 
world?  When  relieved  of  a  prominent  Chicago  paper, 
sometime  since,  all  the  "  boys "  united  in  protesting 
against  the  outrageous  interference  of  a  managing  editor 
in  Chicago  with  the  Washington  Bureau,  and  a  plot  was 
deliberately  formed  to  "freeze  out"  the  worthy  young 
gentleman  sent  here  to  do  the  work.  It  was,  however, 
peppered  to  suit  the  taste  of  the  manager,  and  became  so 
hot  here  that  the  ice  was  thawed  and  the  inevitable 
accepted. 

As    I    said    previously,    there    are    many    honorable 


34  ON   THE    WAR-PATH.          , 

exceptions.  I  am  not  attempting  to  describe  the  rule. 
Perhaps  all  of  us  have  our  price.  I  have  known  some  of 
them  to  accept  bribes  from  both  sides.  That  conceited 
fellow's  tolls  to  Boston  are  one  dollar  a  line. 

The  official  proceedings  of  the  Senate  are  reported  for 
the  record  verbatim  by  Mr.  Dennis  Murphy  and  his  accom- 
plished assistant  stenographers,  who  occupy  tables  on  the 
floor  of  the  Senate,  immediately  in  front  of  the  clerk's 
desk. 

A  reporter  for  the  Associated  Press  is  also  on  the  floor 
alongside,  who  condenses  the  doings  of  every  session,  which 
you  see  published  in  the  daily  press  everywhere. 

Though  there  are  ostensibly  two  organizations,  known 
as  the  Associated  and  the  United  Press,  that  are  appar- 
ently rivals,  they  are,  in  fact,  under  one  general  control. 
It  is  understood  that  the  older  and  more  influential  asso- 
ciated gobbled  its  vigorous  young  rival  by  securing  a  con- 
trol of  its  stock.  As  long  as  there  can  be  no  established 
opposition  to  the  monopoly  of  the  Western  Union  Tele- 
graph Company,  it  will  be  seen  that  two  press  associations 
can  not  exist. 

Whatever  may  be  said  to  the  contrary  by  the  friends 
of  the  telegraph  company,  I  record  it  as  my  testimony,  as  an 
expert,  that,  in  effect,  Jay  Gould  can  now,  through  his 
agents,  indirectly  control  or  muzzle  even  the  Associated 
Press  organization,  in  his  own  interests. 

These  associated  press  organizations  being  composed  of 
papers  of  all  shades  of  politics,  throughout  the  entire  coun- 
try, require  of  their  agents  brief  statements  of  fact  and 
items  of  general  news  only,  and  no  opinions  or  comments. 


OH  THE   AVAR-PATH.  .  35 

By  the  employment  of  a  large  force  of  competent  reporters 
in  Washington,  they  are  able,  in  a  systematic  way,  to  cover 
the  entire  ground,  whether  general,  legislative,  committee 
work,  executive  or  general  news. 

By  reason  of  this  improved  service  there  remains  but  a 
limited  field  for  the  special,  whose  principle  duties  are  now 
confined  to  manufacturing  opinions  and  comments,  or  in 
looking  up  items  of  local  interest.  A  good  deal  of  this 
work  is  now  performed  by  department  clerks,  principally 
ladies. 

The  personnel  of  the  well-known  Washington  corre- 
spondent has,  in  consequence,  suffered.  Prominent  news- 
papers do  not  now  have  their  best  men  in  Washington  to  do 
exclusive  work.  They  have  adopted  a  clearing-house  system 
for  the  exchange  of  news  through  bureaus,  by  Avhich  a  New 
York,  Chicago,  and  Cincinnati  paper  use  the  same  matter. 
This  has  been  followed  by  a  system  of  small  newspaper  syndi- 
cates, which  manufacture  and  sell  news.  The  correspond- 
ents of  these  are  usually  composed  of  the  numerous  news- 
paper hacks  and  deadbeats,  who  attach  themselves  as 
barnacles  or  suckers  to  the  press,  using  it  as  a  cloak,  or 
convenience,  to  better  enable  them  to  ply  their  real  vocation 
of  blackmailers,  lobbyists,  claim  agents  or  stock  gamblers. 

There  are  a  number  of  such  men  with  a  nominal  con- 
nection with  a  newspaper,  who  do  not  pretend  to  gather 
any  news,  and  whose  only  reports  are  those  made  up  from 
the  premature  intelligence  they  may  be  thus  able  to  gain 
of  proposed  legislation,  which  they  telegraph  by  special 
wire  and  by  special  privilege  of  the  telegraph  companies 
to  their  correspondents  direct  to  their  offices  on  Wall 


:j'i  OK   THE    WAR-PATH. 

street,  before  it  is  possible  for  others  to  do  so.  I  am  not 
flying  opinions,  but  recording  facts  that  I  know  to  be  cor- 
rect and  which  may  be  established  easily. 

It  is  both  unfair  to  the  general  public  and  the  press 
that  Congress  should  provide  and  foster  such  trusts,  and 
permit  the  telegraph  companies  to  thus  discriminate. 

Great  injury  and  injustice  is  in  this  way  done,  under 
the  protection  of  Congress,  and  the  same  facilities  are  used 
to  better  enable  the  professional  lobbyists  to  further  the 
interests  of  their  agents  in  procuring  legislation. 

The  "special  wire"  privilege  can  be  enjoyed  by  the 
few  to  the  exclusion  of  the  many,  as  the  person  who 
leases  a  wire  and  operator  for  so  many  hours  each  day 
has  the  exclusive  control  of  it.  May  not  all  available 
wires  be  thus  leased,  at  least  for  the  time  being  ? 

It  was  my  duty  to  have  handled  alone  the  Message 
of  ex-Secretary  Boutwell,  that  announced  a  change  of 
policy  on  the  selling  of  gold,  that  caused  the  celebrated 
Black  Friday  calamity.  If  at  that  time  special  wires  had 
been  in  use,  millions  would  have  been  made  and  lost  by 
the  extra  facilities  now  afforded  gamblers  for  manipula- 
ting government  action.  The  dispatch  I  held  in  my  hand 
might  have  netted  me  a  million  dollars  if  I  had  chosen  to 
(May  it,  and  send  ahead  a  private  message  to  a  confeder- 
ate in  New  York,  giving  this  important  information.  As 
it  was,  it  did  leak  out  in  New  York,  through  the  sub- 
treasury  agent,  as  shown  by  an  investigation  by  a  com- 
mittee of  Congress,  before  whom  I  was  examined.  Hon. 
S.  S.  Cox,  then  Chairman  complimented  me  highly  and 
called  attention  to  the  fact,  that  no  oath  was  required  of 


ON   THE    WAR-PATH.  37 

this  operator,  as  to  the  inviolability  of  the  many  import- 
ant secrets  that  pass  through  his  hands,  as  was  the  case 
with  the  sub-treasurer  of  New  York.  "A  more  faithful 
performance  of  duty  has  been  exhibited  by  this  poorly 
paid  operator." 

By  courtesy  of  the  committee  on  rules  of  the  Senate, 
the  press  gallery  is  under  the  control  of  a  committee  of 
correspondents  who  nominate  their  own  doorkeeper  whom 
the  Sergeant-at-Arms  appoints. 

The  representative  of  the  correspondents  now  acting  as 
a  guard  over  closed  doors — between  the  executive  sessions 
and  the  reporters  room — enjoys  the  distinction  of  having 
stolen  a  President's  message  from  the  government's  keeping 
and  sold  it  to  the  press  for  publication  in  advance  of  its 
delivery. 

It  is  not  charged  that  any  of  the  employes  are  responsi- 
ble for  the  leaks  from  the  executive  session.  I  presume 
the  senators  generally  understand  without  the  farce  of  an 
investigation,  that  whatever  information  is  given  out,  is 
furnished  by  one  or  more  of  their  own  number.  They 
not  intentionally  reveal  the  secrets  of  Executive  Session, 
but  in  an  indifferent  way  submit  to  being  interviewed. 
Some  of  the  reporters  boast  of  their  intimate  relations 
with  what  they  familiarly  term  "My  Senator."  Each  of 
these  will  cross-examine  his  man,  probably  assume  certain 
things  to  provoke  a  denial  which  furnishes  a  clue — then 
they  will  assemble  in  their  clearing  house,  exchange  notes 
and  make  up  a  report — that  is  not  as  often  correct  as  they 
make  out,  but  as  no  denials  can  be  made,  the  public  is  led 
to  believe  it  is  correct. 


51852 


38  OX    THK    WAR-PATH. 

When  employed  at  the  main  telegraph  office  at  night, 
it  was  my  duty  to  receive  from  the  correspondents  their 
copy,  record  and  count  it.  In  this  way  I  handled  for  years 
and  saw  every  word  of  all  matter  filed,  and  became  quite 
familiar  with  the  handwriting  and  style  of  each  of  the  gen- 
tlemen of  the  press. 

During  the  sessions  of  the  high  joint  commission  of  the 
celebrated  Alabama  claims,  the  greatest  anxiety  was  shown 
to  learn  something  of  the  proceedings  and  prospects  of  a 
peaceful  settlement  or  of  a  possible  war  with  Great  Britain. 
I  kept  myself  awake  at  nights,  in  attempting  to  translate 
the  cipher  dispatches  that  were  sent  by  cable,  through  my 
hands,  as  receiver,  to  be  transmitted  to  the  London  foreign 
office.  No  words  were  used,  but  figures,  arranged  in  groups 
of  four— similar  to  this,  1889, 1981,  1 770.  1805,  3632.  etc.  I 
was  successful  only  in  ascertaining  that  the  first  figure  of 
each  group  of  four,  referred  to  a  page  in  the  government 
cipher  book,  and  the  remaining  three  corresponded  with  a 
word  or  sentence  written  or  printed  in  that  book,  so  that 
it  will  be  seen  that  the  cipher  code  of  the  British  govern- 
ment is  practically  unlimited  in  resources  and  almost  past 
finding  out. 

The  gentlemanly  representatives  of  the  New  York 
Tribune,  Messrs.  "White  and  Ilamsdell,  succeeded  in  get- 
ting a  copy  of  the  treaty  after  it  had  been  sent  to  the  Senate 
for  ratification,  filing  it  with  me  for  transmission.  It  was 
published  in  New  York  to  the  consternation  of  the  officers 
of  both  English  and  American  governments.  It  will  be 
remembered  the  senators  became  quite  indignant  and 
demanded  that  the  newspaper  men  should  account  to 


OX   THE    WAR-PATH.  39 

them  for  the  manner  of  obtaining  it.  Of  course  they 
declined,  were  arrested  for  contempt  and  imprisoned  in 
a  committee  room. 

Failing  to  obtain  any  satisfaction  and  as  the  copy  had 
been  withdrawn  after  sending,  I  was  summoned  before  the 
Committee  to  testify  as  to  my  knowledge  of  it  and  espe- 
cially as  to  the  handwriting  of  the  copy  used. 

I  received  instruction  from  President  Orton  and  Man- 
ager Tinker  to  give  to  all  questions  the  stereotyped  reply, 

"I  respectfully  decline  to  answer." 

Though  cross-examined  by  Matt  Carpenter  and  Roscoe 
Conkling,  I  was  able,  to  their  disgust,  to  "respectfully 
decline  "to  be  interviewed.  For  this  offense,  I  had  the 
distinguished  honor  of  being  called  before  the  bar  of  the 
Senate  as  a  recalcitrant  witness,  and  by  the  orders  of  that 
august  body,  I  was  relegated  to  the  charge  of  the  Sergeant 
at  Arms  of  the  Senate.  I  have  related  these  matters  here 
that  you  may  the  better  understand  some  more  interesting 
events  of  a  recent  date  that  follow. 

We  have  been  in  the  Capitol  too  long,  the  club  is  tired 
and  no  doubt  hungry.  I  shall  be  glad  to  escort  you  to 
Harvey's,  one  of  the  old  time  Maryland  restaurants,  where 
we  may  enjoy  the  best  of  oysters,  and  over  our  coffee  and 
cigars,  I'll  tell  you  a  little  story  of  a  recent  conspiracy. 


CHAPTER  III. 

WASHINGTON  " CLUBS " — THE  "(ilUDIKON  PRESS  "  CLUB — 
THE  TRAVEL  CLUB  DINE — AFTER-DINNER,  CONFIDENCES 
— THE  CONSPIRACY  TO  PAY  THE  CONFEDERATE  COTTON 
LOAN. 

The  club  practice  in  Washington  is  developing  to  a 
remarkable  degree,  not  only  the  physical,  but  the  mental, 
social,  religious  and  wicked  as  well  as  business  tendencies 
of  the  habitues  of  the  Capitol. 

Among  the  innumerable  societies  of  this  character  is 
one  organized  by  a  coterie  of  correspondents,  ostensibly 
for  social  gatherings  of  the  press  gang,  known  by  the 
odoriferous  title  of  the  "  Gridiron  Club." 

It  is  notorious  that  the  Washington  correspondents  do 
not  dwell  together  in  harmony;  on  the  contrary,  there  is 
a  lamentable  dearth  of  sociability  in  the  guild,  for  the  suf- 
ficient reason,  perhaps,  that  success  in  their  business  of 
news-gathering  hinges  largely  on  the  "beats ''of  a  rival 
reporter  for  a  contemporary,  and  a  ''  scoop,"  or  exclusive 
item,  results  in  creating  envious  feelings  and  excites  daily 
questions  of  veracity  and  unfair  dealings. 

The  gatherings  of  the  Gridiron  are,  therefore,  limited 
to  occasional  assessment  dinners,  to  which  a  member  may 
invite  a  friend  as  guest — on  the  principle,  perhaps,  of 
supplying  seasonable  "game,"  which  may  be  broiled  upon 
their  gridiron  in  the  presence  of  the  members,  being  well 
basted  with  wine,  and,  when  done,  picked  to  the  bone. 

40 


OX  THE   AVAR-PATH.  41 

Your  guide  invites  the  "  Travel  Club  "  to  become  his 
guests  at  an  oyster  supper  at  Harvey's  old  house,  familiar 
to  the  old  boys  during  the  war  and  to  the  visitors  to  the 
capital  ever  since. 

We  will  have  some  blue  points  on  the  half  shell,  or,  if 
you  prefer,  low  neck  clams,  as  a  basis,  saddle  rocks  fried 
in  bread  crumbs,  a  bushel  of  steamed,  with  all  the  acces- 
sories. 

If  you  do  not  know  how  to  enjoy  oysters,  try  some  of 
the  terrapin  in  Maryland  style,  which  is  a  specialty  of  this 
house,  or  perhaps  a  luscious  canvas-back  duck  with  home- 
made Virginia  currant  jelly  and  a  baked  sweet  potato 
would  suit  the  ladies.  And  by  the  way,  John,  bring  us  a 
decanter  of  that  sherry  from  the  cask  imported  from 
Cadiz.  What  are  you  hesitating  about,  you  grinning  Fif- 
teenth Amendment?  Do  you  suppose  I  am  going  to  fill 
this  crowd  up  on  common  beer? 

I  hope  all  will  feel  perfectly  at  home,  and  be  able  to 
enjoy  an  hour  in  this  communion  of  comradeship,  while 
we,  in  imagination,  eat  from  the  same  old  stump  and 
drink  from  the  same  canteen,  while  I  with  a  feeling  of 
confidence  relate  some  experiences  of  a  conspiracy  relating 
to  some  facts  of  the  war. 

There  are  rings  within  rings,  or  wheels  within  wheels 
that  are  connected  by  an  intricate  system  of  cog-wheel 
mechanism,  that  go  round  and  round  overriding  not  only 
the  will  of  the  masses,  but  crushing  like  the  car  of 
Juggernaut,  any  obstacles  that  are  in  their  path. 

It  is  probably  safe  to  say  that  every -important  private 
or  corporate  interest  has  its  representative  at  the  Capitol. 


42  ON"   TIIK    WAR-PATH. 

The  average  newspaper  man,  being  shrewd,  popularly 
supposed  to  know  everything,  and  by  reason  of  his  press 
connection,  having  an  open  sesame  to  official  quarters  be- 
comes the  favorite  choice  as  the  Washington  agents  to 
look  after  the  interests  of  the  great  corporation.  Of  course 
they  do  not  openly  make  any  such  contracts.  They 
cover  this  outside  business  by  working  through  attorneys. 
Through  an  exchange  or  combination  of  interests  the 
correspondents  are  supposed  to  be  able  to  manufacture 
public  opinion,  commenting  upon  measures  either  favor- 
ably or  unfavorably,  as  they  are  interested,  or  perhaps 
uniting  in  systematic  denunciation  of  any  public  man  who 
may  be  opposed  to  them. 

It  will  be  seen  that  statements  of  fact  or  the  com- 
ments of  the  average  Washington  "Special"  may  through 
this  influence  be  unreliable.  The  intelligent  newspaper 
reader,  however,  is  not  greatly  influenced  by  the  assertions 
of  newspapers,  unless  supported  by  facts.  He  is  rapidly 
being  educated  to  form  his  own  conclusions.  As  Sairy 
Gampe  says,  "facts  is  stubborn  things  which  wont  be  druv 
mutch.  " 

But  the  sin  of  omitting  to  do  the  whole  duty  as  a  chron- 
icler of  public  events,  may  be  even  greater  than  that  of 
committing  an  injustice. 

To  black-mailers  silence  is  frequently  golden.  In  thus 
relating  some  personal  observations  and  experiences  with 
lobbyists  in  Washington  it  will  be  seen  that,  personally,  I 
have  nothing  to  gain  and  everything  to  lose. 

Perhaps  in  a  business  sense  it  would  pay  better  to  submit 
this  story  to  some  interested  parties  for  "  revision  "  rather 
than  tell  it  to  the  club. 


ON   THE    WAR-PATH.  43 

It  is  the  motive  which  gives  character  to  any  act  or  deed. 

My  object  is  simply  a  desire  to  put  in  permanent  shape 

for  record  some  actual  experiences  and   observations  to 

which  I  involuntarily  and  perhaps  providentially  became 

a  witness. 

I  might  appropriately  put  it  in  the  legal  form  of  a  last 
will  and  testament,  or  in  the  deposition  of  an  ante-rnortem 
statement,  realizing  that  "  my  sands  of  life  will  soon  run 
out." 

I  was  for  some  years  engaged  with  the  Inter  Ocean 
bureau  here,  as  a  reporter  and  the  operator  of  a  special  or 
exclusive  telegraph  wire,  Avhich  originated  in  the  Tribune 
office  in  New  York,  and  run,  via  Philadelphia  and  Balti- 
more, to  the  Washington  office  in  Newspaper  Row.  In  the 
same  room  were  also  located  the  reporters'  desks  of  the 
Philadelphia  Ledger,  Cleveland  Leader,  and  my  Pittsburgh 
and  Salt  Lake  City  papers,  and  some  others  who  are  pop- 
ularly known  as  "The  Sisters,"  probably  because  they  are 
weak  and  dependent  upon  their  associates  for  all  they  get. 

This  wire  extended  directly  west  to  the  Chicago  Inter 
Ocean  editorial  rooms,  and  also  reached  the  St.  Paul 
Pioneer  Press. 

It  will  be  seen  that  there  were  unexcelled  facilities 
afforded  me  for  the  study  of  the  modus  opemndi  by  an  inti- 
mate association  with  these  gentlemen  of  the  press  during 
some  years. 

I  made  a  study  of  short  hand,  and  it  become  one  of  my 
regular  duties  to  take  "dictation"  from  the  managers,  or 
to  collect  my  own  notes  in  this  form,  and  to  telegraph 
direct  from  them  instead  of  transcribing. 


44  ON   THE    WAR-PATH. 

« 

By  this  remarkable  system  of  telegraph  short-hand, 
I  was  able  to  transmit,  by  the  use  of  logarithms  and  arbi- 
trary signs  and  contractions,  press  matter  at  more  than 
double  the  speed  of  the  ordinary  method. 

It  became  my  habit  to  "  take  down  "  in  notes  all  mat- 
ters of  interest,  which  enable  me  to  better  relate  now,  with 
a  degree  of  exactness,  matters  that  have  been  preserved  in 

this  way. 

*  *  *  *  *  *  * 

There  arrived  in  Washington  during  the  session  of 
Congress  the  first  year  of  Mr.  Cleveland's  administra- 
tion, an  old  gentleman  who  was  universally  recognized  an 
one  of  the  shrewdest  Wall  street  operators.  His  immense 
dealings  and  bold  operations,  as  well  as  his  clever  sayings, 
had  made  him  quite  famous  in  his  way.  Though  his  name 
is  as  familiar  as  a  household  word,  and  he  is  not  at  all  sen- 
sitive as  to  its  publicity,  we  will,  for  convenience,  call  him 
Uncle  Kemus.  In  a  quiet  way  he  had  engaged  quarters  at 
one  of  the  up-town  European  Hotels,  affected  by  pro- 
fessional lobbyists  on  account  of  its  privacy  and  superior 
table. 

His  arrival  was  not  announced  in  the  press. 

The  first  move  of  the  professional  lobbyist  on  reaching 
Washington,  is  to  entertain  his  intended  victims  at  a  din- 
ner or  supper,  just  as  I  am  using  the  club  as  an  illustra- 
tion. 

This  wily  operator  did  not  wait  for  dinner,  but  at  once 
invited  the  "  boys"  of  the  press  to  a  breakfast.  During 
this  preliminary  sitting  he  took  occasion  to  explain  that 
his  presence  in  the  city  was  purely  for  social  recreation  and 


6N   THE   WAR-PATH.  45 

amusement,  at  which  the  boys  seemed  to  see  something 
funny  enough  to  create  a  laugh. 

He  inadvertently  observed  that,  as  he  had  not  brought 
his  secretary  along,  and  had  an  immense  correspondence 
to  answer,  he  would  like  to  engage  a  temporary  amanuen- 
sis, for  whose  services  he  would  pay  five  dollars  per  day, 
and  asked  the  boys  to  send  him  a  reliable  person. 

It  so  happened  that  I  was  warmly  indorsed  by  the  cor- 
respondents as  a  proper  person,  as  being  familiar  with 
"  ways  and  means/'  and  fully  capable  of  doing  his  work. 

I  was  at  once  engaged,  and  became  the  confidential  sec- 
retary of  the  great  lobbyist. 

The  following  morning  I  reported  for  duty.  Though 
it  was  nearly  10  o'clock,  the  old  gentleman  was  yet  abed 
and  to  my  knock  at  his  door,  he  growled  from  under  the 
clothes,  "Get  out,"  instead  of  "Come  in."  I  knew  some- 
thing of  his  ways,  and  instead  of  retiring  indignantly,  I 
laughingly  mad*e  myself  known,  when  he  responded  more 
politely,  though  quite  indifferently,  ''  I'll  see  you  later." 

When  I  called  later,  about  noon,  I  found  my  employer 
entertaining  some  friends. 

There  were  seated  about  a  centre  table,  on  which  were 
a  number  of  glasses  and  some  ice-water,  or  lounging  on 
sofas,  smoking  the  finest  cigars,  a  number  of  gentlemen, 
who,  like  myself,  had  probably  reported  for  duty.  Among 
these  were  a  couple  of  the  "  well  known"  correspondents, 
an  ex-congressman,  now  a  member  of  the  third  house,  one 
of  those  retired  by  their  constituents  who  remain  in 
Washington  to  practice  law;  also,  one  of  the  many  "  hotel 
sitters  "  used  as  a  sort  of  copper  or  roper  in. 


46  ON   THE   AVAR-PATH. 

To  my  offer  of  services  as  his  clerk,  my  uncle  good- 
humored  ly  observed  that  as  he  was  very  busy,  the  best 
way  to  serve  him  just  then  was  to  "take  a  walk/'  or  if  I 
preferred  it,  to  go  get  a  carriage  and  have  the  bill  sent  in 
here.  "You  might  come  in  again  in  the  evening/' lie 
continued,  laughing,  "and  let  him  know  how  you  are 
getting  along." 

In  the  evening  I  found  a  senator  and  a  United  States 
judge  dining  with  this  king  of  lobbyists. 

Several  days  were  thus  spent  in  reporting  for  duty, 
merely  to  be  excused,  because  the  presence  of  even  a 
private  secretary  was  not  always  desirable  when  surrounded 
by  visitors,  surreptitiously  discussing  "private  enterprises 
of  great  pith  and  moment." 

To  some  suggestion  that  I  should  feel  more  comfortable 
if  permitted  to  do  some  work,  that  I  might  earn  the 
salary,  he  replied,  brusquely,  "  You  are  getting  your 
five  dollars  a  day,  aint  you?  What  are  you  kicking 
about,  say?"  I  did  not  growl  any  more,  but  with  a  broad 
smile  took  another  walk  to  meditate  on  "the  ways  that  are 
dark  and  the  tricks  that  are  vain." 

It  will  be  readily  seen  that  this  voluntary  offer  of  five 
dollars  per  day  for  doing  nothing,  was  in  some  way  a 
bribe.  Trying  to  find  out  just  what  was  to  be  expected  or 
accomplished  is  the  only  thing  that  occupied  my  time. 

The  accomplished  lobbyist  does  not  personally  haunt 
the  lobbies  of  the  Capitol.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  my  uncle 
was  not  to  be  seen  publicly.  Like  an  official  who  manages 
great  interests,  he  sticks  to  his  headquarters,  and  through 
the  agencies  he  employs  he  moves  his  men  in  a  mysterious 
way  on  the  Congressional  checker-board. 


ON  THE   AVAR-PATH.  47 

Congressmen  who  have  access  to  the  floors  and  can  reach 
the  ears  and  pronxpt  members  at  the  proper  moment  and 
thus  precipitate  their  interests  are  the  favored  agents  ;  or 
it  may  be  a  newspaper  man,  who  may,  through  his  recognized 
press  connections  or  legitimate  quest  for  news,  have  access 
to  committee  rooms,  and  in  many  ways  be  able  to  forward 
his  employer's  purposes. 

One  of  the  most  accomplished  gentlemen  of  the  Washing- 
ton press  is  that  elegant-looking  person  whose  military  bear- 
ing and  suave  manners  impress  every  one  favorably.  He 
never  antagonizes  any  one;  is  popular  every  where;  yet  he  is, 
in  fact,  the  most  successful  lobbyist  in  Washington,  and 
one  whose  services  are  eagerly  sought  by  such  men  as  our 
uncle.  He  is  a  veritable  Mephistopheles.  I  confess  to  a 
personal  attachment  and  a  disposition  to  shield  rather  than 
expose  him. 

Through  persistence,  perhaps,  I  succeeded  in  impressing 
my  services  on  Uncle  Remus  during  parb  of  each  day,  read- 
ing aloud  the  financial  items  in  the  New  York  papers,  and 
in  taking  from  him  "dictation"  in  matters  of  finance  to 
submit  to  the  press  boys  as  "special"  of  interest  for  their 
several  papers.  His  "  interviews  "  were  generally  accepted , 
being  quite  readable  from  the  well-known  spicy  flavor  of 
the  old  man's  sayings. 

It  was  satisfactorily  established  to  me  bv  the  corre- 
spondence I  was  called  upon  to  personally  handle,  that  Uncle 
Remus  was  in  turn  only  an  agent  in  Washington  of  a  well- 
known  New  York  capitalist,  who  controlled  telegraphs  and 
railways,  and  wielded  a  greater  one-man  power  than  the 
President  of  the  United  States. 


48  ON  THE   \VAR-PATfit. 

I  make  the  assertion  boldly,  though  there  may  be  no 
way  to  prove  it,  but  the  facts  are,  Uncle  Remus  was  in 
daily  and  hourly  communication  with  the  secretary  of  this 
capitalist  ly  a  special  wire  direct  to  his  office  ;  and  if  an 
examination  of  the  record  could  be  made  it  would  be  shown 
that  this  New  York  party  supplied  by  telegraph  transfer 
the  funds  to  the  Washington  agent.  But  great  is  the 
special  wire  privilege,  of  which  no  record  is  made  of  its 
illegitimate  transactions. 

I  was  soon  admitted  to  the  rooms  as  a  regular  attendant, 
and  became  apparently  so  deeply  immersed  in  the  private 
papers  before  me  that  my  presence  was  not  regarded  by  the 
numerous  callers.  It  might  make  interesting  reading,  but 
it  is  not  my  purpose  to  divulge  the  general  character  of  the 
business  to  which  I  had  access  as  confidential  secretary, 
except  in  the  one  particular  in  which  the  question  of  a 
treacherous  conspiracy  against  the  government  which  I. 
with  hundreds  of  thousands  of  comrades,  had  served  years 
to  uphold,  become  involved. 

One  day,  in  the  exercise  of  my  duty,  I  was  required  to 
reply  to  a  letter  addressed  to  my  employer  as  the  agent, 
dated,  80  Coleman  street,  London,  England,  and  signed 
officially,  "Gabriel  Lindo,  Solicitor  and  Secretary  to  Con- 
federate Bond-holders'  Committee." 

The  correct  name  and  address  is  given. 

The  purport  of  this  original  letter,  which  I  held  in  a 
hand  trembling  with  suppressed  indignation,  was  to  this 
effect: 

An  English  syndicate,  in  which  the  German  Roths- 
childs were  interested  had  been  established,  that  held  as  a 


ON  THE  WAR-PATH.  49 

nucleus  the  bonds  of  the  ex-Confederate  cotton-loan  of 
ninety-five  million  pounds  sterling,  or  four  hundred  uncl 
fifty  million  dollars  United  States  greenback  currency. 

This  letter  was  an  official  proposition  from  this  syndi- 
cate to  their  American  agent  proposing  to  pay  him  ci  rtain 
instalments  of  so  many  thousand  pounds  each,  upon  his 
succeeding  in  having  certain  action  taken  by  Congress 
looking  toward  the  eventual  payment  of  this  cotton-loan. 

The  letter  indicated  that  there  had  bsen  previous  cor- 
respondence on  die  subject,  wherein  the  American  agent 
had  offered  his  services  and  expressed  the  opinion  that  the 
matter  \vas  entirely  feasible  because  of  ihe  recent  election 
of  a  Democratic  President. 

There  is  no  suggestion  of  politics  in  this  story.  No 
ex- Confederates  make  an  appearance  amongst  Che  latter- 
day  conspirators.  It  is  solely  a  conspiracy  for  gold,  in 
which  a  prominent  Wall  street  broker,  a  lobbyist  who  \vas 
bred  and  born  away  down  in  Maine,  is  the  principal 
agent. 

The  English  secretary's  letter  further  stated  that  in  the 
event  of  having  their  bills  referred  to  certain  committees, 
they  \vould  supply  fund-i  to  bear  the  expense  of  argument 
baf.n'o  the.-e  committees. 

In  replying  to  this  communication,  Uncle  Remus  bade 
iiio  write  in  effect,  that  he  had  already  introduced  bills 
looking  to  tho  establishment  of  a  Special  Court  of  Claims, 
!  >  .vhif.li  all  such  questions  were  to  be  referred  for  final 
.settlement,  and  before  which  they  were  now  ready  to  bring 
their  argument. 

"Wiile   lLr.5   void    'arj-.-.rr.rv.t'    t'   inl'/'  i:.\\    Undo 


50  OX   THK   AVAR-PATH. 

Remus,  with  a  sly  twinkle  of  his  eye,  "  so  they  will  not 
misunderstand  it." 

He  further  detailed  to  his  English  employer  the  steps 
that  had  been  previously  taken;  that  he  was  spending  his 
time  in  Washington  on  this  special  business,  and  had  suc- 
ceeded in  ''interesting"  some  of  the  most  influential  parties 
in  his  scheme. 

The  unfolding  of  this  latter-day  conspiracy,  on  the  part 
of  its  professed  friends,  to  rob  the  Government  of  the  re- 
sults of  the  war  that  had  cost  hundreds  of  millions  of  dol- 
lars, hundreds  of  thousands  of  lives,  served  to  rouse  any 
latent  patriotism  in  my  heart,  and  awakened  some  of  the 
old-time  scouting  fever  in  my  blood.  I  concealed  my  feel- 
ings, however,  determined  in  my  own  mind  tofollowit  up. 

Apparently  indifferent  on  the  subject  of  the  letter  he 
was  dictating,  I  ventured  to  lead  my  uncle  into  a  discus- 
sion of  the  matter,  and  while  seemingly  jotting  down  the 
notes  for  the  formal  letter  he  was  to  sign,  I  "got  him  down" 
inshorthand,  and  transcribe  herewith  verbatim,  ad  liternticni 
the  exact  words  used: 

"  Why,  Mr.  R.,  I  thought  there  was  a  constitutional 
amendment  that  forever  prohibited  the  payment  of  the 
Confederate  debt?" 

"That  constitutional  amendment  is  not  constitutional," 
said  Uncle  R.,  as  he  lighted  another  50-cerit  cigar,  and  be- 
tween each  whiff  ejaculated  some  of  his  sharp  sayings. 

"  The  Supreme  Court  decided  that  the  Rebel  States  were 
never  out  of  the  Union,  didn't  they?" 

"Yes,  I  believe  so;  but " 

"Well,  but  me  no  buts  !     Don't  that  scripture  say  that 


Otf  THE   WAK-PATJI.  51 

three-fourths  of  the  States  must  ratify  any  constitutional 
amendments? 

"  The  Southern  States,  according  to  the  highest  court, 
not  being  out  of  the  Union,  were  entitled  to  a  vote,  but 
they  never  ' ratified'  anything,  did  they?" 

To  my  observation  that  they  didn't,  but  had  the 
chance  and  neglected  their  opportunity,  and  further  ven- 
turing theopinioirthat  there  would  be  another  war  if  an 
attempt  was  made  to  pay  the  Rebel  debt,  the  Wall  street 
statesman,  in  his  characteristic  manner,  blurted  out: 

"Who  the  devil  was  talking  about  paying  any  'rebel' 
debt.  Don't  you  get  the  words  'rebel  debt'  in  this  corre- 
spondence. We  don't  want  to  use  the  word  Confederate, 
either.  It's  the  '  Cotton- Loan  of  the  Southern  States'  we 
are  talking  about  and  'War  Claims.'  The  facts  are,"  he 
continued,  as  he  walked  up  and  down  the  floor,  "the  South- 
ern States  negotiated  a  loan  with  capitalists  of  a  friendly 
nation,  giving  as  security  the  cotton  crop.  This  became 
known  as  the  'Cotton-Loan,'  which  was  the  first  placed 
on  the  market.  Well,  the  United  States  Government 
seized  and  appropriated  to  their  own  use  this  cotton,  upon 
which  this  lien  had  been  previously  placed,  and,  of 
course,  became  responsible  for  their  property  thus  con- 
fiscated, as  the  States  were,  according  to  the  Supreme 
Court,  in  the  Union.  I'm  no  lawyer;  we  buy  our  law  in 
New  York  ready  made,  or  to  order,  and  it's  the  opinion 
of  the  ablest  attorneys  that  the  war  was  only  a  big  riot,  and 
the  Government  is  responsible  for  the  damages  done  by  1  he 
rioters,  as  was  established  later  in  the  Pittsburgh  riots.  " 

Becoming  interested,  and,  perhaps,  indignant,!  replied, 


52  ON   THE   WAK-1'ATH. 

somewhat  boldly,  "Congress  will  not  dare  to  puss  a  bill 
for  the  payment  of  the  English  and  Dutch  Jews  who  sup- 
plied Rebels  the  money  to  help  destroy  the  Government." 

Uncle  Remus  halted  abruptly  before  me,  and  with  a  half 
contemptuous  and  amused  glance,  fired  back: 

"Well  I  supposed  that  any  body  who  had  been  in 
Washington  as  long  as  you  have  would  have  learned 
something,"  resuming  his  walk  with  a  marked  sigh  of 
resignation  : 

"I  told  these  fellows  I  wanted  u  man  to  do  my  work 
that  knew  something  and  not  a  damned  fool. — 

"Why,"  he  continued,  as  he  brought  his  fist  down  on 
the  table  and* upset  the  ink-bottle,  "don't you  see  there 
is  four  hundred  million  dollars  here  to  start  with?" 

Afraid  to  again  speak  my  mind  aloud  I  nodded  affirm- 
atively, when  he  took  my  "breath  away  by  the  significant 
words,  that  I  saw  were  only  too  true: 

"Why  man,  we  can  do  atiytlrivri  where  there  is  that 
much  money  behind  us." 

"  But  that  won't  buy  the  people. " 

"  We  don't  Avant  to  buy  the  people;  all  that  is  neces- 
sary is  a  few  Congressmen  to  go  along  with  the  Solid' 
South." 

"  All  we  ask  is  the  passage  of  a  little  bill  of  ten  or 
twenty  lines  'establishing  a  Court  of  Claims.' 

"  It  is  cheaper  to  buy  seven  judges  than  the  whole  of 
Congress,"  said  my  Uncle,  laughingly. 

"The  word  Confederate  or  Southern  War  Claims,  does 
not  appear  in  the  bill,  which  is  so  worded  that  all  claims 
of  whatever  character  may  be  referred  to  it. 


OX  TIIF-]   AVAB-PATII.  53 

"This  will  eventually  get  all  these  matters  before  the 
Supreme  Court,  which  is  precisely  what  we  want." 

I  recall  with  a  vividness  that  startles  me  now,  in  the 
light  of  subsequent  events,  this  prediction  made  and 
recorded  at  that  time,  1886. 

"  We  will  get  the  Supreme  Court." 

Mr.  Lamar,  in  the  year  following  this  was  placed 
upon  the  bench. 

It  has  been  my  pleasure  to  know  Mr.  Lamar  personally 
as  a  most  courteous  gentleman  whom  no  one  can  accuse 
of  any  dishonorable  motive;  yet  it  must  be  conceded  that 
this  Judge  in  the  Supreme  Court,  represents  the  dry 
bones  of  the  Confederacy  and  recalls  the  scriptural  text: 
"And  shall  these  dry  bones  live?"  Chief  Justice 
Fuller  was  also  opposed  because  of  his  early  antagonism  to 
reconstruction.  Subsequently  a  bill  drawn  up  by  myself 
from  Uncle  Remus'  dictation  was  introduced  in  Congres.% 
referred  to  the  proper  committee  before  which  arguments 
were  made  in  favor  of  its  passage. 

I  am  not  offering  legal  opinions  on  this  question — 
merely  submitting  facts. 

One  of  the  ablest  jurists  in  the  United  States,  Judge 
Fullerton  of  New  York,  made  the  argument  before  the 
committee  of  Congress. 

The  projectors  do  not  expect  immediate  results.  They 
claim  that  their  only  expectation  is  to  secure  a  legal 
standing,  of  the  Confederate  bonds  of  all  denominations 
by  this  agitation  in  hopes  of  a  future  realization. 

A  number  of  interested  parties  have  been  quietly  gath- 
ering them  up  at  nominal  prices. 


o4  ox  Tin:  WAR-PATH. 

I  realized  that  the  scheme  was  dangerous,  only  in  the 
way  that  Uncle  Remus  had  put  it. 

"We  can  do  ftnyihing  where  there  are  hundreds  of  mil- 
lions of  dollars  behind  us." 

It-  haunted  me,  not  only  in  my  waking  but  in  my  sleep- 
ing, like  a  ghost  of  the  dead  Rebellion. 

I  dreamed  that  the  spirit  of  a  murdered  President  stood 
before  me,  holding  in  a  ghastly 'skeleton  hand  a  scroll,  upon 
which,  like  the  handwriting  on  a  wall,  1  read  the  words  of 
my  wa'r  commission: 

''Know  ye  all  men  by  these  presents.     Having  special 
confidence  in  the  honor,  valor,  patriotism  and  fidelity  of 
— ,  I  hereby  appoint  him etc/' 

To  this  were  attached  the  autographs  of  A.  Lincoln  and 
E.  M.  Stanton,  with  the  War  Department's  rod  seal 
attached,  like  a  dreadful  wound. 

I  wakened  with  the  feeling  that  the  commission,  re- 
signed so  long  ago,  was,  in  a  manner,  yet  in  effect,  and  1 
determined  to  do  what  I  felt  lobe  a  duty,  and,  as  of  old,  I 
became  a  scout  for  the  Government,  in  trying  to  defeat  t  he 
schemes  of  the  latter-day  conspirators. 

It  will  be  remembered  that  1  was  able  to  keep  the 
secrets  of  my  employers,  in  relation  to  Black  Friday 
•telegrams,  where  millions  were  at  stake,  and,  being  brought 
before  the  bar  of  the  Senate,  failed  to  produce  certain 
papers  that  I  had  handled  in  confidence.  I  did  not  want 
to  violate  the  privacy  of  the  papers  I  had  seen  while  acting 
as  a  private  secretary.  It  is  apparent  that  there  was  no  sel- 
fish object  to  gain  by  doing  so.  It  was,  therefore,  through  a 
sense  of  duty  to  my  country  only  that  led  me  to  quietly  seek 


ON   THE    WAR-PATH.  55 

General  John  A.  Logan,  then  senator  from  Illinois,  in  his 
retired  home  at  Calumet  place. 

I  found  the  General  laying  on  a  lounge  in  his  library. 
After  his  cordial  "Why,  how  are  you?"  I  handed  the 
original  letter  of  the  English  secretary  and  a  copy  of  the 
reply. 

After  reading  them  over,  his  black  eyes  snapping  at  me 
over  the  top  of  his  glasses,  he  said : 

"  Where  did  you  get  this?" 

I  detailed  the  entire  matter,  explaining  fully  my  con- 
nection with  it  as  secretary,  and  that  my  only  object 
was  a  sincere  desire  to  thwart  the  schemes  of  these  men, 
and  that  I  had  come  to  him  in  confidence  for  his  advice 
and  suggestions,  knowing  that  I  could  rely  on  him. 

It  was  Sunday  afternoon.  Mrs.  Logan  was  present, 
and  Parson  Newman  says,  Senator  Logan,  was  a  good  Metho- 
dist and  we  all  know  he  is  in  Heaven;  but  the  strict  regard 
for  truth  which  I  have  been  trying  to  follow  in  this,  com- 
pels me  to  say  that  the  Senator  swore;  indeed  John  cursed 
roundly,  and  acted  so  wickedly  that  Mrs.  Logan  felt  com- 
pelled to  interfere  to  quiet  him. 

"  Why."  he  said,  rising  from  his  seat  and  shaking 
the  papers  in  his  hand,  "  it's  a  meaner  conspiracy  than  any- 
thing enacted  by  the  Rebels  here  in  Washington  just  before 
the  war." 

After  expressing  his  thanks  to  me  for  giving  him  my 
confidence  he  went  on: 

"I  had  heard  something  of  it;  but  like  a  great  many 
others  was  disposed  to  pass  it  by  as  impracticable;  but  here 
are  documents  in  black  and  white  that  prove  conclusively 


50  OX   THE   \VAK  PATH. 

that  there  is  an  organized  attempt  in  that  direction — 
which  is  bad  enough,  but  the  meanest  part  of  it  is  that  it 
shows  traitorous  schemes  in  our  own  ranks." 

As  a  matter  of  policy,  and  in  order  that  I  might  watch 
further  developments,  it  was  arranged  between  u.s  that  Ilic 
whole  matter  should  be  kept  in  strict  confidence,  to  use  his 
own  words, 

"It  is  better  not  to  open  fire  on  them  yet;  you  watch 
this  thing  closely  and  report  everything  to  me." 

The  General  bade  me  a  grateful  good  evening,  holding 
my  hand  warmly  as  we  walked  to  his  front  gate  lie  said: 

"The  Government  owes  you  something  haml-ornc  for 
this." 

In  the  weeks  and  months  following,  during  which  I 
continued  to  act  as  the  secretary  for  Uncle  Remus,  when- 
ever he  came  to  the  city,  I  collected  and  filed  with  Gen- 
eral Logan  all  the  further  evidence  I  could  gather. 

I  wrote  and  had  mailed,  in  different  parts  of  the  South, 
decoy  letters,  representing  the  writers  as  being  holders  of 
Confederate  bonds,  which  were  addressed  to  this  general 
secretary  at  his  London  office.  The  replies  to  these  ficti- 
tious letters  were  of  value  as  indicating  th^ir  purpose,  and 
were  filed  with  General  Logan. 

We  were  also  able  to  develop  the  fact,  that  a  Washing- 
ton newspaper  man  was  an  accredited  agent  of  the  syndi- 
cate and  had  made  trips  to  Europe  and  the  South  in 
furthrance  of  these  schemes. 

I  had  frequent  consultations  with  General  Logan  and 
directed  his  attention  to  bills  lhat  had  been  introduced  in 
the  House. 


OX   TJJK    WAR-PATH.  57 

I  am  inclined  to  think  lie  conferred  with  some  of 
the  Republican  Senators  on  the  subject,  probably  Mr. 
Edmunds. 

Soon  after  the  unexpected  death  of  General  Logan,  I 
addressed  a  note  to  Mrs.  Logan  requesting  her  to  prevent 
these  private  papers  falling  into  the  hands  of  any  one,  to 
which  she  graciously  replied  that  "all  of  her  dear  husband's 
private  papers  should  be  sacredly  preserved.'*  This  letter, 
bordered  with  the  (loop  mournii  g  bearing  date  of  the 
month  of  his  death,  is  in  safe  keeping  and  in  the  light  of 
subsequent  events  would  make  a  startling  page,  establish- 
ing the  fact  of  the  beginning  of  the  work  that  has  slowly 
but  ste;;dily,  step  by  step,  moved  forward — and  the  end  is 
not  yet. 

Feeling  it  incumbent  to  put  the  matter  in  the  hands  of 
some  one  for  safe  keeping  and  if  necessary  to  be  used  in 
case  of  my  doath,  I  concluded  that  the  most  appropriate 
depository  would  be  with  the  Commander-in-chief  of  the  G. 
A.  R.,  as  the  preserver  of  the  rights  for  which  this  comrade 
died.  This  grand  organization  nviy  be  depended  upon  to 
not  only  preserve  but  riiake  the  proper  u?e  of  it,  if  the 
occasion  should  ever  rise. 

With  this  object  in  view,  I  consulted  in  confidence  an 
ex-commander-in- chief,  well  a-' id  favorably  known  all 
over  the  United  States,  as  a  decided,  but  most  conserva- 
tive working  member  of  the  order. 

He  .heard  the  story  with  astonishment  and  received  for 
doposit  such  papers  as  I  had,  with  n,  written  statement  ns 
above  narrated,  also  the  letter  of  Mrs.  Logan  acknowledg- 
jng  the  papers  in  her  possession. 


58  OX   THE    WAR-PATH. 

This  gentleman  agreed  that  the  matter  was  of  a  start- 
ling character  and  he  fully  realized  its  importance  and 
expressed  the  opinion  of  an  attorney,  that  this  interest 
might,  in  time,  "  plant  themselves"  here  so  firmly  that  they 
would  be  able  to  carry  out  their  nefarious  designs. 

Being  about  the  time  of  the  flag  episode,  he  observed 
further: 

"  If  this  question  should  be  presented  to  the  Annual 
Encampment  of  the  G.  A.  R.  about  to  assemble  it  would 
raise  such  a  whirlwind  and  ''norther  "  compared  to  which 
the  flag  incident  would  be  but  a  mere  zephyr." 

WASHINGTON,  D.  C.,  June  21, 1887. 
J.  O.  KERBY,  ESQ.,  23  Seventh  street,  New  York. 

Dear  Sir  and  Comrade:  I  have  received  and  read  with  care  your  favor 
of  20th  inst.,  with  its  enclosure.  Further  reflection  confirms  the  opinion  in 
which  we  both  agreed  on  yesterday,  that  the  time  has  not  arrived  for  any 
public  exposure.  My  own  judgment  is,  that  to  make  an  attack  now  would 
not  serve  any  good  purpose,  either  general  or  personal,  and  that  great  cir- 
cumspection ought  to  be  observed  in  order  that  knowledge  either  of  facts 
or  suspicions  be  not  too  largely  confided,  as  you  know  there  are  but  few 
who  are  capable  of  suppressing  their  own  tendency  to  talk.  The  necessary 
thing  now,  as  you  have  indicated,  is  to  get  proofs  and  fix  the  facts.  As  it 
is,  I  don't  see  very  clearly  how  this  is  to  be  done ;  but  certainly  if  there  is 
any  agitation  of  the  waters  the  oyster  will  shut  up  tight,  and  steps  will  be 
taken  to  discredit  what  is  already  known.  You  speak  of  being  willing  to 
make  affidavit,  etc.  I  venture  to  suggest  that  it  might  be  wise  and  well  for 
you  to  make  up  a  circumstantial  account  of  your  whole  knowledge  and 
connection  with  the  matter,  including  a  statement  of  the  fact  and  circum- 
stances of  any  communication  you  have  made  on  the  subject  to  other 
persons.  A  copy  of  this  paper  you  would  wish  to  deposit  in  trustworthy 
hands.  The  fact  that  there  is  an  English  agency  which  has  undertaken  the 
task  of  getting  recognition  of  the  Confederate  bonds  is  known  in  a  general 
way— the  concrete  fact  that  they  are  in  earnest  about  the  matter,  and  are 
securing  agencies  in  this  country  and  among  Americans  having  place, 
prominence  and  power,  is  the  thing  to  be  proved  and  made  known  in  due 
time;  and,  if  proven,  Avill  be  the  nucleus  of  a  hurricane  to  which  the  flag 
wind  will  seem  a  zephyr.  My  advice  to-day  is  not  to  confide  your  facts  to 
any  impecunious  person  who  might  sell  them,  or  to  any  politician  who 
would  try  to  help  his  own  ends  by  their  use.  Fraternally, 

S.  S.  BURDETT. 


ON    THE    WAK-PATH.  59 

As  additional  evidence  I  am  induced  to  record  this 
gentleman's  testimonial  herewith. 

WASHINGTON,  D.  C.,  Nov.  4, 1889. 
DEAR  COMRADE  KERBEY: 

I  have  been  reading1  over  the  "  Boy  Spy,"  and  must  give  it  as  my  opin- 
ion that  in  many  respects  it  is  the  most  remarkable  and  interesting  narra- 
tive to  be  found  in  the  considerable  body  of  literature  dealing  with  the 
events  of  the  War  of  the  Rebellion.  That  you  have  not  refrained  from  say- 
ing things  likely  to  displease,  as  well  as  those  sure  to  please,  proves  that 
your  book  is  as  you  claim,  "  a  history  of  events  occuring  under  your  notice, 
and  not  merely  a  fancy  skt  tch."  1  can  the  better  understand  and  believe 
your  narrative  of  personal  encounter  and  escape,  because  of  my  long  per- 
sonal acquaintance  with  you  here  in  Washington,  where,  as  I  know,  you 
have  kept  the  field  as  a  "  newspaper  scout,"  and  hare  since  theicar  been  able 
to  do  the  State  service.  I  don't  know  of  a  more  interesting  book  for  a 
winter's  evening  reading  than  the  "  Boy  Spy,"  especially  for  the  old  soldier 
boys  and  their  families,  most  of  whom  will  find  in  its  pages  some  i'amiliar 
fact  and  incident.  Fraternally  yours, 

S.  S.  BUKDETTE. 

I  had  not  given  the  matter  to  any  one  else,  except  a 
brief  statement  to  the  editor  of  a  soldier's  paper  with 
whom  I  was  then  associated.  I  assumed  that  the  manager 
of  a  paper  published  ostensibly  in  the  interest  of  soldiers, 
and  claiming  to  be  the  especial  friend  of  the  dead  Logan, 
would  preserve  in  strict  confidence  such  matters.  I  have 
the  reason  to  believe,  and  do  believe,  that  my  confidence 
was  violated,  and  that  one  of  the  newspaper  fiends  to 
whom  this  editor  was  under  obligations,  and  who  was 
interested,  was  made  acquainted  with  the  fact  that  I  was 
"on  to  their  scheme." 

This  has  naturally  resulted  in  some  bitter  antagonism, 
in  which  the  attempt  has  been  made  to  deliberately  kill 
olf,  in  a  business  sense,  so  troublesome  a  person.  It  is  the 
policy  of  the  interested  parties  to  do  this,  of  course,  but 
I  do  not  require  any  assistance,  or  even  sympathy.  As 
General  Burdette  says,  "  I  have  kept  the  field  as  a  news- 
paper scout." 


GO  ON    THE    V.AII-J'ATII. 

li  wotiKl  have  been  better  policy  to  have  ''stood  in  '' 
with  the  gang. 

During  the  recess  of  Congress  the  matter  remains  seem- 
ingly dormant,  but  is  revived  at  each  of  the  sessions. 

In  pursuance  of  a  sense  of  duty,  I  had  these  papers 
•'handed  down  "  to  the  different  commanders  of  the  G. 
A.  K.,  as  maybe  FC<  n  from  the  following  official  corre 
ppondence: 

NATIONAL  HKAIMJIAHTKK!?  GUANO  AKMTOF  THE  REPUBLIC,  ) 

Iv.v^sAsCrn-,  Mo  ,  (Vtobcr  26,  1888.  f 

MA.JOH  J.  ().  KKKBKY,  Washington,  I).  (.'. 

Dear  Sir  <ind  Comrade:  Major  Warner,  commander-in -chief, 
desires  to  acknowledge  the  receipt  of  the  confidential  communica- 
tions, and  directs  me  to  thank  you  for  the  patriotic  motives  which 
inspired  them.  He  intends  to  keep  the  subject-matter  thoroughly 
in  mind,  and,  should  occasion  offer  demanding  the  official  action  of 
the  G.  A.  K.,  3 our  services  will  not  be  forgotten. 

Very  truly  yours,  in  F.,  C.  «fc  L  , 

EUGENE  F.  WEIGEL,  Adjutant  General. 

Subsequently,  Gen.  Weigel  writes  from  St.  Louis  under 
date  of  November  21,  5880. 

*  *  *  ••  ^jy  ofljcjjii  cape  having  fallen  on  the  shoulders  of 
Col  George  II.  Hopkins  of  Detroit,  Mich.,  the  papers  you  refer  In 
are  all  in  his  possession,  having  been  duly  sealed  by  me  and  marked 
"very  important."  This,  I  took  it  to  be  carrying  out  the  spirit  of 
your  previous  letters.  *  *  * 

[Copy.] 

COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF — RI>SKL  A.  ALCJEU. 
HEADO,I:AKTKKS  G.  A.  R  ,  DRTiUHT,  Midi  ,  Dec.  21,  18H9. 
MAYOK  J.  O   KKHBKY,  P.  ().  Box  29:5. 

Dear  fiir  nml  (Comrade:  In  reply  to  yours  and  Idler  from  Col. 
Weigel,  the  confidential  papers  referred  to  were  duly  transmitted 
and  are  safely  on  file  in  this  office.  I  have  read  them  with  a  great 
/leal  of  interest.  *  *  * 

I  return  herewith  letter  of  Gen.  Alger. 
Sincerely  yours, 

GEO.  II.  HOI-KINS,  Adjutant -General. 


OX   Tilil    WAlM'ATIl.  61 

1  have  given  only  a  brief  outline  of  facts,  omitting  an 

under-current  of  rumor  and  surmises  that  might  be  more 
interesting. 

I  have  asserted  that  there  is  a  wide  spread  organization 
to  accomplish  the  eventual  payment  of  all  the  Confederate 
debt. 

That  the  matter  is  not  dead,  nor  even  sleeping,  may  be 
proven  by  the  following  extract  from  the  Washington  Po*t 
of  October  9th,  1889. 

I  beg  to  remind  the  reader  that  editorial  notes  may  also 
be    "  seasoned/'   and   that   in   apparently   denouncing  a 
scheme,  the  writer  attempts  to  avert  antagonism. 
Editorial,  Post,  Oct.  9,  1SS9. 

THE  CONFEDERATE  BOND  SCHEME. — "The  story  published  last 
week  in  the  Neic  York  Ilsrald  in  regard  to  the  arrival  of  the  agent  of 
a  syndicate  of  English  Confederate  bond  holders,  whose  mission  is 
to  urge  forward  some  payment  of  those  bonds,  if  only  to  the  amount 
of  one  per  cent,  shows  such  an  amount  of  ignorant  assurance  on  tiie 
part  of  that  agent  and  his  syndicate,  as  to  pass  all  bounds  of  rational 
belief.  It  is  true  that  the  British  islander  rather  prides  himself  of 
knowing  very  little  about  matters  belonging  to  the  outside  of  his 
insular  confines,  and  that  the  Englishman  in  his  self-satisfied  and 
unapproachable  superiority  of  the  people  of  other  countries  is  a 
veritable  podsnap.  But  all  this  is  very  different  from  averring  that 
he  is  absolutely  the  animal  characterized  by  the  prophet  Jeremiah, 
"as  sniffing  up  the  wind  at  his  pleasure." 

"  The  egregious  simplicity  and  stupidity  that  would  now  under- 
take to  realize  upon  a  Confederate  bond  is  so  great  that  it  is  simply  in- 
credible. The  whole  of  that  transaction  belongs  to  the  ancient  history. 
One  might  as  well  attempt  to  collect  payment  on  a  French  ansif/nat 
of  1793.  No  one  can  be  found  who  has  the  slightest  financial  responsi- 
bility or  indebtedness  in  connection  with  the  Confederate  loan. 

************ 

"The  Englishman's  hallucinations  and  delusive  hopes  in  this  matter 
rest  less  on  forgetful  ness  of  events  than  on  ignorance  of  our  institu- 
tions. He  knows  that  certain  States  were  sometime  since  in  rebellion, 
and  that  in  a  kind  of  a  way  they  were  connected  with  their  loan. 


62  ON   THE    WAR-PATtf. 

Ho  also  knows  that  those  Stales  still  retain  their  autonomy  in  the 
re-constructed  Union.  II  seems  to  him  just,  therefore,  that  these 
•States  should  assume  ]>ait  of  the  obligation  for  which  he  gave  his 
gold". 

#  -X-  *  *  -X-  *  #  *  *  *  *  * 

"It  is  said  that  advantage  is  to  be  taken  of  some  of  the  risingenter- 
prises  of  the  South,  and  that  paying  something  on  the  Confederate 
will  be  made  a  condition  of  their  obtaining  any  loans  from  England. 
Doubtless  there  are  enterprises  in  the  South  and  elsewhere  that  would 
be  very  willing  to  pay  a  reasonable  bonus  for  assistance  in  the  way  of 
English  money,  but  it  is  beyond  all  doubt  that  no  corporation  can 
be  found  that  will  furnish  such  a  bonus  in  a  manner  to  imply  any 
sort  of  legal  responsibility  for  the  Confederate  loan." 

The  italics  are  mine.  I  simply  wanted  to  call  attention 
to  the  fact  that  we  have  found  persons  of  the  greatest 
financial  responsibility  in  connection  with  this  scheme. 

This  editorial,  with  that  of  the  New  York  Herald, 
establishes  the  fact  that  I  have  endeavored  for  five  years  to 
impress  upon  G.  A.  11.  commanders  that  there  exists  such  an 
organization,  which  has  planted  itself  here,  and  is  steadily 
and  rapidly  growing.  "Whether  it  may  be  successful  or 
not,  is  an  open  question. 

As  tending  to  indicate  the  "policy''  of  the  same  paper 
that  prints  the  above,  I  attach  herewith  a  recent  editorial 
note,  dated  May  3,  1890,  bearing  indirectly  on  the  very 
point  that  Uncle  Kern  us  denies,  i.  e.,  a  court  to  which  all 
such  matters  may  be  referred: 

"Mr.  YVilliam  Wheeler  Ilubbell,  in  a  communication  to  The  Post 
this  morning,  suggests  a  "  bill  of  rights  to  a  court  "  as  presenting  a 
constitutional  and  practicable  way  of  disposing  of  the  private  calen- 
dar. That  is,  a  certification  to  the  Court  of  Claims  of  all  bills 
reported  and  remaining  on  the  calendar  at  the  adjournment  of 
Congress,  without  limitation.  By  this  means  the  just  compensation 
of  claimants,  it  is  argued,  will  be  facilitated,  and  what  now  seems  to 
be  insurmountable  barriers  to  their  rightful  recognition  be  perma- 
nently removed." 


Otf   THE   WAR-PATH.  03 

THE  PRIVATE  CALENDAR. 

A  PKACTICABLE  AND  CONSTITUTIONAL,  WAY  OUT   OF  THE  DIFFICULTY. 

Editor  Post:  Your  excellent  articles  on  the  duty  of  the  United 
States  to  its  creditors,  showing  the  great  injustice  done  to  citizens, 
the  destruction  of  their  labors,  and  reduction  to  poverty  of  those 
dependent  on  them,  and  the  dishonesty,  in  violation  of  the  Constitu- 
tion to  fix  u  limitation  on  claims  due  from  the  Government  and  none 
on  claims  of  the  Government,  are  doing  much  good,  in  awakening 
politicians  to  the  fact  that  the  great  chart  was  made  for  citizens  "  to 
pay  debts"  as  it  declares,  and  "not  to  take  private  property  without 
just  compensation." 

Forty  years  ago  I  attained  the  honor  of  admission  to  the  Supreme 
Court  bar,  and  for  about  that  time  have  had  experience  with  Con- 
gress as  a  creditor,  and  have  only  obtained  a  small  fraction  of  justice. 
The  great  evil  lies  in  the  fact  that,  for  the  purposes  of  an  election 
before  the  people,  the  republic  principle  of  a  majority  rules,  but 
when  in  Congress,  inside  of  the  Capitol,  the  despotic  rule  of  "objec- 
tion" prevails.  The  present  Congress  has  attempted  to  modify  this 
to  some  extent,  but  the  neglect  of  the  private  calendar  is  quite  as  bad 
and  unjust  as  the  turning  of  the  majority  power  into  a  despotism 
multiplied  by  the  number  of  members  inside  of  the  Capitol. 

There  is  one  legitimate  constitutional  way  out  of  the  difficulty, 
however,  and  it  is  one  adopted  by  the  British  monarchy  and  some 
other  powers  in  Europe— it  is  a  bill  of  right  to  a  court. 

At  the  end  of  every  Congress,  let  all  bills  reported  and  remaining 
on  the  calendar,  be  certified  to  the  Court  of  Claims,  which  shall  give 
the  court  jurisdiction  to  hear  and  determine  each  case  on  principles 
of  equity  and  justice,  irrespective  of  any  limitation  as  to  time,  and 
give  judgment  on  the  principles  expressed  in  the  Constitution,  so 
that  just  compensation  shall  be  rendered  to  every  man  according  to 
his  inherent  merit.  This  course  would  make  prosperity  instead  of 
bankruptcy,  and  the  Government  itself  would  share,  by  greater  rev- 
enues, in  the  general  prosperity  that  such  a  course  would  create. 
The  principles  of  the  Constitution  would  then  be  practically  fulfilled, 
and  the  successof  a  republican  form  of  government  be  no  longer  "an 
experiment,"  as  stated  by  Washington,  but  would  become  a  success- 
ful practical  realization;  the  calendar  of  every  Congress  wrould  be 
cleared,  and  business  on  it  finished. 

WM.  WHEELER  HCBBELL. 
Washington,  May  2. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THK  TRAVEL  CLUB  TO  THE  FRONT,  VIA  THE  POTOMAC1  TO 
OLD  POINT,  AND  IP  THE  JAMES  ItJVEU  AND  PENIN- 
SULA TO  THE  CONFEDERATE  CAPITAL. 

JIE  one  day  allotted  to  Washington  will  kuvly 
suffice  to  give  the  Travel  Club  a  foretaste  of  t'.uit 
which  may  be  expected  during  a  sojourn  of  many 
days  in  the  Capital.  We  will  now,  as  they  say  down  South, 
"carry"  our  club  to  the  front,  Ivping  we  may  be  able  to 
spend  another  day  there  on  o-iricturn. 

After  our  hasty  spin  around  the  City  of  Magnificent 
Distances,  all  will  be  tired;  and,  after  the  club  dinner,  a 
rest  will  be  appreciated. 

Instead,  however,  of  going  t<>  an  expensive  hotel  to  be 
packed  into  a  stuffy  8x10  room,  we  will  jump  on  a  cable 
car,  reaching  the  6th  street  wh.irf  at  4  p.  M.,  and  board 
one  of  the  elegant  steameiis  thai  H;U!  every  evening  for  Old 
Point  and  Norfolk. 

The  fare  is  but  $1.50;  a  stateroom  suitable  for  two  per- 
sons, or  even  four,  in  a  pinch,  may  be  secured  for  an  ad- 
ditional dollar  which,  altogether,  about  equals  the  siu.i  n 
first-class  hotel  will  charge  the  same  number  of  guests  for 
a  back  room  on  the  top  floor.  - 

From  the  deck  of  these  steamers  the  tourist  may  enjoy, 
during  a  pleasant  evening's  ride,  a  series  of  historic::! 
views,  which  will  pass  ho fore  him  like  a  moving  panorama. 


ON   THE   WAR-PATH.  G5 

developing  scenes  that  can  not  be  shown  anywhere  else  in 
America. 

The  Washington  Monument  should  be  viewed  from  the 
water  level  to  be  properly  appreciated.  The  visitor  is  apt 
to  express  surprise  that  the  tall  shaft  should  not  have  been 
located  on  higher  ground,  forgetting  that  at  the  time  of  its 
inception  the  principal  entrance  to  the  city  was  by  the 
river,  so  that  its  location  was  probably  selected  with  a  view 
of  impressing  the  approaching  travelers,  as  in  the  case  with 
the  Statue  of  Liberty  in  New  York  Harbor. 

To  me  the  monument  grows  more  beautiful  every  time 
I  look  upon  it.  Its  strikingly  grand  and  at  the  same  time 
simple  proportions  rising  to  the  unsurpassed  height  of  555 
feet  from  the  green  turf,  should  be  seen  from  the  sea- 
level  basis.  From  the  rear  deck  of  the  steamer  as  it  leaves 
the  pier,  you  are  surprised  to  see  that  the  dome  of  the 
Capitol,  which  seemed  to  be  the  highest  from  the  streets 
of  the  city,  becomes  quite  dwarfed  by  the  tall  shaft. 

A  beautiful  view  is  also  to  be  had  of  Arlington :  The  set- 
ting sun  beyond  it  bringing  out  in  a  most  effective  manner 
the  pretty  white  and  red  bars  of  the  old  flag  that  waves  so 
gracefully  in  the  evening  breeze  that  sighs  through  the 
tree-tops  a  constant  requiem  over  that  bivouac  of  the  dead, 
who  died  that  the  flag  might  wave  over  them. 

The  island  or  river  park  that  has,  like  magic,  been  lit- 
erally raised  up  from  the  bottom  of  the  river,  will  aston- 
.ish  the  old  soldiers,  who  will  only  remember  a  nasty  marsh 
below  the  well-known  long  bridge  that  at  every  low  tide 
showed  its  loathsome  features  and  dispensed  an  offensive 
malaria-breeding  air  over  the  city.  Now  all  this  is  rapidly 


66  OX    THK    WAR-PATH. 

becoming  a  beautiful  park,  with  elegant  drive-ways, 
encircling  lakes  of  clear  water. 

To  the  left,  as  we  glide  by,  is  the  arsenal  grounds  and 
barracks,  the  boat  passing  so  close  to  the  stone  sea-wall  that 
even  the  swell  of  the  waves  do  not  drown  the  happy  voices 
of  hundreds  of  ladies  and  their  escorts  who  promenade  as 
Avell  as  children  who  gambol  on  the  green  while  the  bands 
of  the  regular  artillery  play  their  evening  serenades. 

In  one  of  the  finer  looking  houses,  or  officers'  quarters, 
the  court  convened,  which  tried  and  convicted  the  Lin- 
coln conspirators.  Inside  of  this  enclosure  they  were  all 
hung,  and  beneath  the  stone  slabs  along  which  the  regular 
sentry's  beat  was  located,  and  over  the  stones  of  which 
walked  hundreds,  daily,  without  knowing  it,  lay  secretly 
buried  not  only  their  bodies,  but  also  that  of  J.  Wilkes 
Booth,  until  resurrected  some  time-  after  and  delivered  to 
their  separate  friends. 

The  eastern  branch  of  the  Potomac  comes  in  here  ;  a 
short  distance  above  will  be  seen  the  ship  houses  of  the 
old  Navy  Yard,  or  perhaps  in  the  stream,  may  be  laying  a 
Monitor  or  torpedo  boat.  They  have  a  daily  target  prac- 
tice out  this  way,  but  we  will  probably  succeed  in  running 
by  safely. 

The  fine  building  and  extensive  environments  on  the 
Maryland  Hills,  opposite  is  St.  Elizabeth's  Government 
Insane  Asylum.  The  flat  land  below  is  Giesboro  point, 
used  during  the  war  as  a  recruiting  depot  for  Cavalry 
horses.  At  Alexandria  just  six  miles  below,  a  stop  is  made, 
perhaps  long  enough  to  permit  the  eager  tourist  to  go 
ashore  and  run  up  into  the  main  street  of  this  old  town. 


OK  THE   WAR-PATH.  67 

The  first  visitor  will  be  struck  with  the  marked  differ- 
ence between  the  North  and  the  South  by  this  quaint 
ancient  looking  town  lying  so  distinctly  between  the  " Old 
line  "  of  civilization. 

Here  Washington  and  Lee  worshipped  in  the  same 
church  in  which  may  now  be  seen  on  one  side  of  the 
chancel,  a  tablet  to  Washington  and  another  to  R.  E.  Lee. 
Most  of  our  soldiers  will  remember  it  as  a  starting  place  in 
their  Virginia  campaign,  and  children  seem  to  think  its 
only  interest  attaches  to  the  sad  death  of  Col.  Ellsworth, 
at  the  beginning  of  the  war. 

On  the  back  grounds  of  almost  any  of  these  views  may 
be  discerned  against  the  horizon,  the  broken  outlines  of 
some  of  the  old  earth- works  on  forts  erected  for  the  pro- 
tection of  the  Capital. 

After  an  hour's  pleasant  ride  in  the  gathering  twilight, 
we  glide  past  Fort  Washington,  garrisoned  now  by  a  sin- 
gle ordnance  sergeant:  The  tolling  of  the  steamer  bell 
announces  that  we  are  passing  Mount  Vernon,  the  home 
during  his  life,  and  in  death  of  him  who  was  first  in  war. 

No  boats  were  permitted  to  land  passengers  here  except 
the  regular  packets  that  belongs  to  the  regents  of  the 
estate.  It  is  assumed  that  every  visitors  to  Washington 
has  been  to  the  tomb  of  Washington. 

The  tolling  bell,  served  to  bring  up  a  general  discussion 
among  some  passengers  of  our  great  father,  one  old  river 
man  declared  that  in  years  gone  by,  a  British  war  vessel 
that  had  ascended  the  river,  permitted  a  number  of  their 
crew  to  go  ashore  here.  By  some  means  they  had  been 
provided  with  a  too  plentiful  supply  of  grog,  and  in  a 


68  ON  THE   WAR-PATH. 

spirit  of  devilish  ghoulishuess  desecrated  the  old  tomb 
and  robbed  the  coffin  of  the  skull  and  took  it  away.  It  is 
said  that  the  replaced  skull  may  not  have  been  that  of 
Washington. 

One  of  the  passengers,  evidently  a  member  of  the  real 
estate  syndicate  now  mapping  out  the  entire  country  about 
the  capital  into  lots,  declared  that  Washington  was  one 
of  the  shrewdest  real  estate  dealers  the  country  has  yet 
produced,  and  he  seemed  to  be  able  to  support  the  asser- 
tion by  quoting  items  from  Washington's  book-keeping, 
which  indicated  quite  clearly  that  the  original  George 
Washington  had  a  very  keen  foresight. 

All  of  the  veterans  will  remain  on  deck  to  get  a 
glimpse,  through  the  darkness,  of  the  ruins  of  the  once  well- 
known  landing  at  Aquia  Creek.  At  this  point  was  em- 
barked all  of  the  Army  of  the  Potomac,  that  once  occupied 
the  thirteen  miles  of  country  between  here  and  the  Rappa- 
hannock  in  front  of  Fredericksburg,  during  1862-G3. 
Here  also,  and  from  the  adjoining  landing  at  Belle  Plains, 
were  brought  the  wounded  from  Spottsylvania,  The 
Wilderness  and  Mine  Run  to  be  treated  in  the  temporary 
hospitals  or  sent  away  by  boats. 

A  little  below  this,  we  reach  Matthias  Point,  and 
instead  of  the  Rebel  battery  once  located  there,  that  was  so 
annoying  to  our  Potomac  Flotilla,  we  discover  the  first 
light-house  on  the  river  erected  by  the  Government,  that 
now  flashes,  out  from  the  darkness,  caution  and  protection 
to  the  navigators  instead  of  gun  flashes  of  defiance  and 
destruction. 

The  river  now  begins  to  widen  until  the  receding  shores 


ON  THE   WAR-PATH.  69 

are  almost  lost  to  sight  in  the  fast-gathering  darkness. 
Except  for  the  frequent  camp-fires  of  the  numerous  shad 
fisheries  that  are  located  along  the  banks,  one  could 
scarcely  tell  where  the  water  leaves  off  and  the  shores 
begin. 

During  the  season  these  shad  and  herring  fisheries  are 
an  important  industry  on  these  waters.  I  have  no  doubt 
the  interior  reader  will  imagine  it  a  fish  story  to  be  told 
that  they  catch  fish  by  steam  here;  yet  it  is  a  fact,  that  in 
the  largest  stations,  the  immense  seines  are  drawn  by  port- 
able engines,  and  in  a  majority  of  cases,  horse-power  is 
used  to  operate  the  windlass  that  hauls  in  the  great  masses 
of  fish  that  are  dumped  into  the  holds  of  schooners  very 
like  they  handle  coal  in  other  sections. 

The  fact  that  all  the  fish  are  caught  on  the  Virginia 
shore  is  one  of  the  curious  features  that  not  even  the  oldest 
fisherman  could  explain. 

One  of  my  numerous  trips  down  the  river  happened  to 
be  in  the  company  of  the  once-familiar  Congressman, 
Hon.  Mr.  Belford,  of  Colorado,  the  genial  and  companion- 
able gentleman  who  was  proud  of  his  distinction  as  the 
"  red-headed  rooster  of  the  Rocky  mountains."  Mr.  Bel- 
ford  was  reared  in  that  part  of  the  "rowdy  West"  where 
water  was  scarce.  This  being  his  first  visit  to  the  sea- 
shore, he  became  greatly  impressed  by  this  "great  waste 
of  water "  that  was  being  extravagantly  exhibited  before 
his  eyes,  and  kept  the  entire  boat  in  a  hilarious  mood  by 
his  quaint  observations. 

In  reply  to  a  hint  that  it  was  time  to  retire,  the  Con- 
gressman blurted  out; 


70  ON   THE   AVAR- PATH. 

"  No  ;  I  am  not  going  to  bed  to-night.  Why,  my 
great  heavens,  just  look  out  there  at  the  water,  will  you? 
Great  Scott !  it's  on  the  other  side  of  the  boat,  too.  It's  all 
around  us,  ain't  it? 

"  You  must  remember  that  I  am  from  Colorado,  where 
they  haul  water  around  in  barrels  and  sell  it.  No,  I'm 
going  to  stay  right  here  and  take  it  all  in  while  I  have  a 
chance." 

At  his  invitation  all  hands  went  below  to  .sample  the 
water,  after  which  the  Western  Congressman  lighted  a 
cigar,  went  out  on  the  ''back  porch,"  as  he  termed  the 
afterguard,  put  his  feet  upon  the  "fence"  or  rail,  and, 
with  head  uncovered,  remained  there  long  after  all  the 
rest  of  the  crowd  had  turned  in  to  be  rocked  to  sleep  on 
the  bosom  of  the  fair  Chesapeake. 

The  proper  thing  for  the  first  visitor  is  to  rise  early 
that  you  may  have  a  view  of  the  sun  coming  up  "out  of 
the  water" — the  boat  being  out  of  sight  of  land  on  the 
eastern  side,  and  quite  a  ways  off  the  western  or  Virginia 
shore. 

Daylight  will  reveal,  here,  a  most  beautiful  picture  of 
early  morning  at  sea.  Ships  of  almost  every  description 
with  white  sails  spread,  or  steamers,  leaving  a  dark  ribbon 
of  smoke  as  a  wake  in  the  air,  may  be  seen  going  and  com- 
ing in  all  directions,  either  outward  bound  or  from  distant 
ports  for  Baltimore  and  the  cities  and  rivers  of  the  grand 
Chesapeake  Bay. 

The  steamer  runs  under  the  guns  of  Fortress  Monroe, 
the  massive  dark  walls  of  which  look  so  low  from  the 
water  that  we  come  upon  them  suddenly  and  look  into  the 


ON"   THE    WAR- PATH.  71 

grim-throated  guns  with  a  fear  that  they  might  go  off  un- 
expectedly and  a  wish  that  they  were  pointed  the  other 
way. 

We  land  at  the  Government  Pier  and  take  breakfast  at 
the  sumptuous  Hygeia  Hotel — one  of  the  finest  perhaps, 
on  regular  table  fare,  to  be  found  anywhere. 

We  will  take  the  Fort  first  that  we  may  see  the  guard- 
mount  of  the  regular  garrison.  They  have  their  drill  and 
execution  pretty  nearly  perfect.  It  is  witnessed  by  hun- 
dreds of  lady  visitors  daily,  so  that  there  is  considerable 
incentive  to  keep  up  the  practice. 

Hours  may  be  spent  upon  the  ramparts,  gazing  alter- 
nately out  to  *ea  or'  looking  down  upon  the  beautiful 
interior,  which,  with  its  handsome  officers'  quarters,  beau- 
tiful gardens  and  plants,  profuse  in  rich  colors  and  fra- 
grance ;  numerous  laughing  children  and  ladies  moving 
about  leisurely;  officers  and  soldiers  in  their  brigV  uniform  ; 
present  a  most  peaceful,  almost  a  holiday  picture.  Except 
for  the  piles  of  cannon  balls  and  great  guns  there  is  no  war- 
like aspect  in  the  enclosure.  Its  immense  walls,  as  seen 
from  the  rampart,  rather  suggests  a  heavy  stone  fence  en- 
closing beautiful  homes. 

Fortress  Monroe  covers  eighty  acres  of  ground;  the 
walls  are  of  granite,  thirty-one  feet  high,  surrounded 
entirely  by  a  moat  of  seventy-five  to  one-hundred  and  fifty 
feet  in  width,  and  eight  feet  depth  of  water.  The  arma- 
ment of  the  old  fort  is  about  five  hundred  guns,  and  inside 
its  walls  an  entire  army  may  be  protected  from  siege. 

It  cost  the  Government  over  two  million  before  the  war 
and  probably  as  much  since  in  completing  and  repairs. 


ON  THE   WAR-PATH. 

Yet  Fortress  Monroe  would  practically  be  of  no  service 
whatever  in  a  time  of  war  with  a  foreign  nation. 

This  conceded  truth  does  not  speak  well  for  the  skill 
or  foresight  of  our  regular  engineer  officers,  who  planned, 
located  and  spent  Government  apppropriations  year  after 
year  upon  this  useless  war  relic. 

It  is  so  located  that  guns  could  not  reach  an  enemy  who 
might  choose  to  sail  past  out  of  range,  toward  Baltimore 
or  "Washington.  And  for  protecting  the  James  River 
and  Norfolk,  its  massive  walls  are  not  nearly  so  useful  as 
were  the  Rebel  sand  batteries  nearly  opposite,  at  Sewell's 
Point,  which  did  protect  the  Confederates  for  years,  ena- 
bling them  to  build  in  security,  and  almost  within  gunshot, 
the  Merrimac. 

A  little  distance  out  toward  the  front  is  an  abandoned 
fort  that,  at  'great  expense,  was  literally  raised  out  of  the 
water.  It  is  known  as  the  Rip  Raps. 

From  the  rampart  may  be  seen,  off  Newport  News, 
the  battle  "  ground,"  on  the  waters  of  Hampton  Roads, 
on  which  occurred  the  most  remarkable  naval  fight  of  the 
age— that  between  the  Monitor  and  Merrimac.  Had  this 
Rebel  ship  escaped  the  little  Monitor  and  run  by  Fortress 
Monroe  to  Washington,  she  could  have  destroyed  every- 
thing in  her  path  to  "Washington  and  Baltimore. 

Very  many  stories  might  be  told  of  Fortress  Monroe 
and  its  environments.  Around  its  grim  old  walls  cluster 
many  pleasant  memories,  as  well  as  some  that,  like  disa- 
greeable ghosts,  haunt  its  dark,  damp  casements. 

The  one  spirit  that  will  not  down  is  that  "of  the  impris- 
oned President  of  the  Confederacy,  who  was  confined  here 


ON  THE   WAR-PATH.  73 

after  his  capture.  His  cell  was  the  first  casement  to  the 
right  of  the  entrance,  a  -disagreeable,  dark,  repulsive- 
looking  hole.  In  that  dungeon  the  iron  was  forced  into 
the  proud  heart  of  Jeff.  Davis,  and  it  was  said  by  himself 
that,  when  the  order  to  put  irons  on  him  was  executed,  he 
resisted  violently,  hoping  the  guard  would  kill,  rather 
than  manacle,  him. 

The  extensive  Hygeia  Hotel,  erected  on  this  Govern- 
ment ground  within  a  hundred  yards  of  the  fort,  is 
crowded  with  guests,  especially  during  the  winter  and 
spring  months.  Here  gather,  to  recuperate  during  Lent 
from  the  excesses  of  "the  season"  at  Washington,  the 
ultra  fashionable  society  people  of  Washington,  Baltimore, 
Philadelphia  and  New  York.  The  interesting  invalids,  in 
their  migration  from  Florida  to  the  North,  also  delight 
to  stop  over  at  Old  Point. 

The  waters  of  the  bay  and  numerous  adjacent  rivers 
supply  the  choicest  of  oysters  and  fish.  The  surrounding 
marshes  and  lowlands  are  the  favorite  haunts  for  ducks 
and  game,  and  the  sportsman  is  happy  in  the  pursuit  of 
that  pleasure.  The  rich  soil  of  the  back  countries  pro- 
duces, in  abundance,  the  earliest  of  vegetables  and  fruits. 

The  hotel  provides  sumptuously  and  artistically  for  the 
inner  man — and  woman.  This  accounts  for  the  regular 
attendance  of  so  many  rich  papas  and  mammas.  The 
principal  attraction,  however,  to  the  daughters,  seems  to 
be  in  the  well-fitting  fatigue  coats  and  trousers  worn  oy 
the  officers  from  the  fort.  There  are  a  number  of  these 
military  gentlemen  stationed  here.  They  generally  mess 
at  the  hotel ;  the  proprietor  having  an  eye  to  the  fitness 


74  ON    THE    WAR-PATH. 

of  things,  no  doubt  making  it  an  attractive  feature  all 
around. 

There  is  usually  a  ship  of  war  or  two  lying  in  the  roads, 
either  of  our  own  or  of  some  other  government,  the  offi- 
cers from  which  are  permitted  to  come  ashore  to  mingle 
with  the  "army" — and  the  ladies.  In  an  architectural  view 
the  hotel  is  not  pleasing  to  the  eye.  Beginning  with  a  mere 
country  tavern,  it  has  grown,  from  year  to  year,  by  addi- 
tions and  annexes,  into  an  immense  hostlery,  that  resem- 
bles, from  the  outside,  a  large  infirmary,  where  the  invalids 
are  protected  by  the  glass  fronts  that  enclose  its  broad 
verandas,  when  the  sea  breezes  blow  too  fresh  for  the  hot- 
house plants. 

The  dining-room  and  dancing  pavillion,  standing  by 
themselves,  are  beautiful  structures,  resembling  in  general 
outline  two  large  canvass  tents.  They  are  built  of  finely- 
finished  native  pine  wood.  An  immense  chimney,  in  the 
middle  of  the  dining-hall,  rises  like  a  center-pole  of  a  tent, 
and  supports  the  arch,  or  turtle-back  roof.  In  cold  weather 
four  "  fires  on  the  hearth,"  of  crackling  hickory  wood,  cast 
their  cheerful  shadows  and  warmth  over  all  who  are  so 
fortunate  as  to  come  within  their  genial  influence. 

Being  located  within  a  few  rods  of  the  water's  edge, 
one  may  sit  at  a  table,  and  under  the  stained-glass  win- 
dows almost  feed  the  fish  that  are  tempted  to  come  within 
sight. 

The  dancing  pavillion,  immediately  adjoining,  being 
similarly  constructed,  is,  indeed,  artistically  beautiful.  A 
dias  at  one  end  contains  the  band  of  the  regular  artillery, 
who  play  in  the  afternoon,  during  dinner,  when  children 


ON   THE    WAK-PATH.  75 

may  dance — be  seen  and  not  heard — while  their  fond  par- 
ents dine.  Every  evening  is  a  dance,,  and  it  goes,  without 
any  further  attempt  at  description,  that  a  more  delightful 
day  and  evening  may  not  be  enjoyed  anywhere — than  at 
Old  Point  Comfort. 

One  may  promenade  on  the  broad  walks  surrounding 
these  halls — the  ripple  of  the  tide  almost  touching  your 
footsteps,  while  out  to  sea,  the  ships  riding  at  anchor  or 
sailing  in  or  out,  seemingly  try  to  keep  time  with  the 
music  or  dance  in  unison  with  the  gay  assemblage  inside. 

There  are  many  pretty  ladies,  in  gorgeous  and  elegant 
costumes,  whirling  in  the  arms  of  handsome  officers,  over 
the  broad  floors,  to  the  seductive  music  of  the  band,  or  in 
bevies  or  groups,  talking  and  laughing  together.  Seated 
around  the  walls  are  distinguished-looking  men  or  com- 
fortable-looking women. 

Every  body  seems  to  be  happy  and  if  any  of  the  club 
contemplate  matrimony  I  advise  them,  by  all  means,  to 
take  in  Old  Point  Comfort  on  your  bridal  tour. 

Of  course  the  officers  are  the  favorite  partners  for  the 
dance  and,  as  a  rule,  the  regular  officer  is  a  good  dancer, 
and  always  a  gentleman.  It  is  part  of  his  military  edu- 
cation. 

But  there  are  plenty  of  dancers  who  do  not  wear  the 
uniform  now,  but  have  in  days  gone  by;  and  one  of  the 
pleasant  features  of  this  pleasant  place  is,  that  so  many 
gentlemen  with  gray  mustaches  and  perhaps  gray  bangs, 
but,  withal,  an  erect  military  bearing,  are  able,  on  the  floor, 
to  eclispse  the  "cubs" —  as  the  younger  officers  are  famil- 
iarly termed. 


76  ON  THE   WAR-PATH. 

And  now  before  we  leave  Old  Point,  I  have  a  special 
request  to  ask  of  the  lady  members: 

Will  you  not,  while  I  sit  down  and  rest,  please  play  that 
beautiful  waltz  song,  I  first  heard  at  Old  Point — that  is 
such  a  general  favorite  in  the  South  whither  we  are  bound: 

"I  am  going  back  to  Dixie/'  or  "Ise  gwine  back 
to  Dixie." 

A  few  minutes'  walk  will  take  us  into  the  beautiful 
grounds  of  the  National  Soldiers'  Home,  located  at  Hamp- 
ton, directly  across  the  small  inlet  that  separates  Old  Point 
from  the  peninsula  proper. 

The  old  veteran  will  be  interested  here,  and  doubt- 
less the  first  impression  will  be  that  they  would  rather  live 
here  than  at  the  stylish  Hygeia  Hotel. 

There  are  over  2,500  old  soldiers  quartered  at  the  home; 
every  one  of  whom  wears  the  same  fatigue  blouse,  cap  and 
pants,  so  familiar  to  all  that  were  around  here  twenty-five 
years  ago.  They  seem  to  live  in  quiet  comfort,  the 
Government  providing  everything  that  is  necessary  to 
make  them  contented  and  happy;  in  addition  to  good 
clothing,  they  are  well  fed,  comfortably  quartered,  and 
furnished  good  spring  beds,  promptly  doctored,  and  other- 
wise well  cared  for.  The  climate  is  salubrious,  the  grounds 
extensive  and  pleasant;  buildings,  now,  larger,  and  more 
elegant  and  convenient  than  the  Hygeia.  They  have 
nothing  to  do  but  to  answer  roll-call,  and  no  marching 
orders,  except  to  follow  the  bugle  and  drum  calls  to 
rations.  The  waters  afford  most  excellent  boating  facili- 
ties and  good  fishing.  Yet,  with  all  this,  after  spending 
some  hours  among  the  old  inmates,  I  was  reminded  rather 


ON  THE   WAR-PATH.  77 

of  the  hospital  feature  of  army  life,  and  but  a  little  contact 
creates  the  impression  that  it  savors  rather  of  an  asylum 
for  old  army  cranks.  I  came  away  with  the  feeling  that 
Fd  rather  turn  my  toes  up  under  six  feet  of  gravel  than  be 
compelled  to  exist  on  top  of  the  handsomest  plot  of  ground 
in  America,  in  this  style. 

Close  observation  satisfied  me  that  a  majority  of  the 
inmates  are  of  foreign  birth,  the  preponderance  seeming 
to  be  with  the  German  element,  who  smoked  their  pipes 
of  peace  and  growled  in  their  native  tongue,  while  they 
lounged  about  on  the  beautiful  grassy  lawns,  or  held  down 
comfortable  arm-chairs  on  the  broad  verandahs  of  the 
hospital. 

The  officials  say,  that  with  barely  an  exception,  their 
free  boarders  are  kickers  to  such  an  extent  that  it  has 
become  chronic,  and  is  tolerated  by  the  officials  as  a 
disease. 

They  average  a  funeral  a  day  at  Hampton,  which  gives 
the  band  belonging  to  the  place  and  the  non-commissioned 
officers  plenty  of  opportunity  to  keep  up  their  parade 
practice. 

The  superintendent  of  the  cemetery  calls  attention  to 
the  miscalculation  of  the  managers  in  allotting  so  small  a 
portion  of  the  extensive  grounds  for  the  reception  of  the 
dead.  In  time  it  will  probably  all  become  a  soldier's  ceme- 
tery, which  is  in  fact  the  soldier's  only  home. 

It  is  the  desire  of  the  authorities  to  increase  the  capacity 
of  the  Hampton  Home,  and  plans  are  now  being  considered, 
looking  to  the  eventual  concentration  of  all  the  soldiers 
at  this  location.  In  the  course  of  nature  the  inmates  of 


78  ON   THK    WAR-PATH. 

each  of  the  branches  will  decrease..  Those  remaining 
may  be  better  cared  for  here,  where  the  climate  and  sur- 
roundings are  so  well  adapted  for  the  comfort  of  the  old 
and  infirm. 

Directly  adjoining  Hampton  is  the  training  school 
for  Indian  boys  and  girls,  and  also  the  Colored  Normal 
Institute.  The  colored  and  Indian  boys  mix  indiscrimi- 
nately, without  regard  to  color,  race  or  previous  conditions. 
The  long,  straight  hair  of  the  "one,  two,  three  little 
Indians,  four,  five,  six  little  Indian  boys,"  as  well  as  the 
short,  curly  wool  of  the  colored  boy  is  cropped  so  short 
that  it  is  sometimes  difficult  to  distinguish  them.  The 
schools  being  conducted  on  the  military  principle,  all  are 
dressed  alike  in  the  same  uniform. 

The  town  of  Hampton  is  one  of  the  earliest  settlements 
of  Virginia.  A  church  may  be  visited  in  which  the 
colonial  settlers  worshiped.  In  our  war  this  town  became 
familiar  as  the  place  from  which  Gen.  B.  F.  Butler  dated 
his  official  communications. 

We  will  not  linger  here,  but  take  the  little  steamer 
that  starts  from  its  old  wharf  and  which  will  convey  us 
across  Hampton  Roads,  over  the  place  where  the  Merrimac 
sank  United  States  wooden  frigates  that  are  yet  buried 
beneath  the  water — the  flag  at  the  topmast  only  remain- 
ing above  water — and  after  a  pleasant  ride  of  ten  or  twelve 
miles,  are  landed  at  Norfolk,  Virginia. 

Much  may  be  said  of  Norfolk  and  Portsmouth,  the  twin 
cities  by  the  sea.  They  are  such  quiet,  dignified  towns, 
and  have  been  here  so  long,  they  impress  the  visitor  with 
u  feeling  of  respect  due  to  old  age.  They  had  the  ad  van- 


OK   THE   WAR-PATH.  79 

tage  of  New  York  and  Brooklyn  iu  an  earlier  start  in  life, 
and  in  the  superior  water  and  harbor  facilities,  as  well  as 
being  the  nearest,  geographically,  to  the  great  Ohio  and 
Mississippi  Valleys.  Just  why  they  stopped  growing  a 
hundred  years  ago  is  left  to  the  club  as  a  text  for  an  essay 
on  the  subject.  Norfolk  is  now  the  pea-nut  market  for 
the  world. 

It  may  truly  be  said  of  these  two  cities  that  they  observe 
too  well  the  precept,  emulation  without  envy.  Even  the 
school-books  recite  their  ancient  history,  and  tell  of  their 
early  settlement,  of  the  Gosport  Navy  Yard  at  Portsmouth, 
of  the  numerous  great  occurrences  happening  heareabout, 
of  the  visits  of  the  colonial  governors;  also  of  Washington, 
of  La  Fayette,  and  others.  They  have  also  been  visited  by 
the  yellow  fever  and  cholera — but  not  mentioned  in 
the  books — as  well  as  by  British  ships  on  hostile  errands, 
Confederate  as  well  as  Federal  soldiers. 

To  my  mind,  however,  the  most  interesting  of  the  dis- 
tinguished foreign  visitors  was  that  of  the  poet  Tom  Moore. 
It  was  on  the  occasion  of  his  stay  in  the  old  town  that  he 
penned  the  beautiful  poem,  "The  Lake  of  the  Dismal 
Swamp. " 

The  Club  will  not  care  to  go  into  this  terribly  desolate- 
looking  canal  country  back  of  Norfolk,  in  which  is  located 
the  truly  dismal  swamp.  In  lieu  of  an  attempt  at  a 
description  of  it,  I  beg  some  one  to  recite  the  poem  of 
Moore,  which  so  graphically  portrays  the  scenery  and 
expresses,  in  his  poetic  language,  feelings  that  only  one 
who  visits  there  may  experience. 

I  believe  the  story  of  the  poem  is,  that  a  young  English 


80  ON  THE   WAR-PATH. 

nobleman  and  the  daughter  of  one  of  the  colonial  governors 
were  betrothed.  The  lady  died  in  Norfolk,  of  cholera,  and 
her  burial  place  was,  for  sanitary  reasons,  kept  a  secret.  The 
young  gentleman's  mind  becoming  unhinged  by  the  blow, 
he  imagined  his  bride  was  lost  in  the  Dismal  Swamp.  In 
search  of  her,  he  entered,  alone,  the  fastnesses,  and  follow- 
ing the  light  of  the  ignis  fa  tints,  that  is  nightly  displayed 
in  such  places,  he  was  lost  in  its  fastnesses,  and  never  again 
heard  of. 

THE  LAKE  OF  THE  DISMAL  SWAMP. 

"They  made  her  a  grave  too  cold  and  damp 

For  a  soul  so  warm  and  true; 
And  she's  gone  to  the  Lake  of  the  Dismal  Swamp, 
Where,  all  night  Jong,  by  a  firefly  lamp, 
She  paddles  her  white  canoe. 

"And  her  firefly  lamp  I  soon  shall  see, 

And  her  paddle  I  soon  shall  hear; 
Long  and  loving  our  life  slmll  be, 
And  I'll  hide  the  maid  in  a  cypress  tree, 

When  the  footstep  of  Death  is  near." 

Away  to  the  Dismal  Swamp  he  speeds. 

His  path  was  rugged  and  sore, 
Through  tangled  juniper,  beds  of  weeds. 
Through  many  a  fen,  where  the  serpent  feeds, 

And  never  man  trod  before. 

And  when,  on  the  earth  he  sank  to  sleep, 

If  slumber  his  eyelids  knew, 
He  lay  where  the  deadly  vine  doth  weep 
Its  venomous  tears,  and  nightly  steep 

The  flesh  with  blistering  dew! 

And  near  him  the  she- wolf  stirred  the  brake, 
And  the  copper-snake  breathed  in  his  ear, 
Till  he  starting  cried,  from  his  dream  awake, 
"Ah!  when  shall  I  see  the  dusky  lake, 
And  the  white  canoe  of  mv  dear?  " 


ON  THE   WAR-PATH.  81 

He  saw  the  lake,  and  the  meteor  bright 

Quick  over  its  surface  play'd — 
"  Welcome,"  he  said,  "my  dear  one's  light!  " 
And  the  dim  shore  echoed,  for  many  a  night, 

The  name  of  the  death-cold  maid; 

Till  he  hollow'd  a  boat  of  the  birchen  bark, 

Which  carried  him  off  from  the  shore; 
Far,  far  he  followed  the  meteor  spark, 
The  winds  were  high  and  the  clouds  were  dark, 

And  the  boat  return'd  no  more. 

But  oft,  from  the  Indian  hunter's  camp, 

This  lover  and  maid  so  true 
Are  seen,  at  the  hour  of  midnight  damp, 
To  cross  the  lake  by  a  firefly  lamp, 

And  paddle  their  white  canoe! 

The  nice  little  steamer  Ariel  leaves  Norfolk  on 
alternate  days  at  7  A.  M.,  for  Richmond  via  the  James 
river.  The  fare  for  an  entire  day  on  the  most  historic 
stream  in  America  is  but  one  dollar.  Good  meals  are 
served  aboard  at  fifty  cents  each. 

I  might  fill  the  pages  of  a  good  sized  book  about  this 
trip  up  the  James  river,  but  shall  merely  outline  the 
journey,  leaving  it  to  the  readers  to  fill  out  when  they 
come  out  this  way  on  their  bridal  tours. 

The  school  boys  and  girls  may  take  the  history  of  the 
country  as  their  guide  book,  and,  perhaps,  follow  along  in 
imagination  the  feelings  and  thoughts  of  those  tempest- 
tossed  mariners  of  the  seventeenth  century — Captain  John 
Smith  and  his  party — as  they  sailed  up  this  river  in  1609, 
and  also  the  thrilling  stories  of  the  decades  that  have  fol- 
lowed since  that  time. 

The  New  England  writers  who  furnish  our  histories 
and  school-books,  seemingly  desire  to  dwell  upon  and  keep 


84  ON  THE  WAfc-i>ATH. 

to  the  front  the  Pilgrim  Fathers  and  Plymouth  Kock,  and 
leave  untold  the  entire  story  of  the  Cavaliers  in  Virginia. 
The  facts  are  indisputable,  however;  the  first  settlement  of 
America  was  made  at  Jamestown,  Virginia,  fifty  miles  up 
this  river.  That  it  was  not  more  successfully  and  per- 
manently established  resulted  from  the  fact  that  these  first 
colonists  comprised  four  mechanics,,  twelve  laborers,  fifty 
gentlemen  and  not  a  woman.  Just  how  Mr.  Smith  expected 
to  build  up  and  populate  the  new  country,  is  another 
problem  submitted  to  the  club  for  further  discussion. 

There  is  no  settlement  at  Jamestown  now.  The  boat 
touching  at  the  croaking  and  shaky  remains  of  an  old 
landing,  dump  us  into  what  seems  almost  as  lonely  a  spot 
as  that  at  which  the  colonists  were  landed  nearly  three 
hundred  years  ago.  There  is  not  a  sign  of  human  habi- 
tation. The  farm  house  of  a  lady  near  by  will  afford  the 
tourist  shelter  and  entertainment  until  relieved  by  the 
return  of  the  boat  from  Richmond. 

The  river  at  this  point  is  three  miles  wide.  On  the 
opposite  shore  is  a  fine  range  of  bold  and  beautiful  hills. 

There  is  no  vestige  of  the  ancient  town,  except  the 
small  ruins  of  a  church  portal  or  steeple,  and  a  disordered 
group  of  tombstones. 

It  is  charged  that  the  hordes  of  relic  hunters  have 
carried  away,  one  by  one,  more  than  two-thirds  of  the 
few  remaining  bricks. 

One  enterprising  Yankee,  it  is  asserted,  sent  off  to  New 
England  two  hundred  of  these  relic  bricks  in  one  lot. 

One  wonders  if  they  desire  to  transplant  this  original 
landmark  and  rebuild  it  upon  Plymouth  Rock. 


ON  TflE   WAR-PATH.  83 

Surely  the  historical  societies  of  the  State,  or  better, 
perhaps,  the  general  government  should  interpose  to  pro- 
tect from  the  despoiling  hands  this  only  remaining  ruin  of 
the  original  settlers. 

In  these  days  of  lavish  centennials,  might  not  a  few 
hundred  of  the  many  millions  being  appropriated  for 
celebrations,  be  used  to  establish  at  this  point  a  Govern- 
ment reservation  ? 

The  site  is  an  island  separated  from  the  main  land  by  a 
very  narrow  body  of  water.  It  was  on  account  of  the  pro- 
tection thus  afforded  from  attacks  by  Indians  that  the  loca- 
tion was  selected. 

What  a  place  for  lugubrious  meditation  !  But  it  is  not 
my  forte  nor  genius  to  write  in  the  style  of  Young's  Night 
Thoughts.  I  would  rather  be  dancing  at  the  Hygeia  than 
meditating  up  here. 

On  one  of  the  tombstones  I  succeeded  in  making  out 
an  inscription  following  an  obliterated  name,  declaring  him 
to  "  have  been  a  great  sinner  who  had  died  in  the  hope  of 
a  joyful  resurrection. " 

This,  however,  is  an  early  record  of  the  acknowledg- 
ment of  the  boundless  mercy  of  Heaven,  and  gives  a  back- 
ward and  upward  glance  at  that  divinely  consoling  procla- 
mation to  so  many  who  have  traveled  their  weary  ways  on 
this  peninsula,  "  Come  unto  Me  all  ye  that  labor  and  are 
heavy  laden,  and  I  will  give  you  rest." 

On  one  of  the  tombstones  we  will  rest,  shaded  by  tho 
bough  of  a  tree  whose  trunk  has  embraced  and  grown  over 
the  head  stone  of  another.  And,  as  better  expressing  the 
situation  to-day  than  can  be  given  by  any  of  our  modern 


84  ON   THE    WARPATH. 

travelers,  permit  me  to  read  to  you  an  extract  from  the 
writings  of  the  celebrated  "  British  Spy/' 

These  famous  papers,  which  appeared  anonymously 
over  a  half-century  ago,  created  throughout  the  English- 
speaking  world  an  interest  similar  to  that  excited  by  the 
letters  of  Junius. 

The  author  of  the  "  British  Spy  "  papers  was  William 
Wirt,  the  Attorney-General.  lie  visited  this  spot  about 
1838,  and  found  it  a  ruin  at  that  period.  His  description 
at  that  time  is  strikingly  applicable  to  the  present.  It 
expresses  my  sentiments  on  a  recent  visit  so  graphically 
that  I  am  constrained  to  ask  the  indulgence  of  the  Club. 

The  ruins  of  the  steeple  mantled  with  ivy  only  remains.  It  is 
difficult  to  look  at  these  awful  proofs  of  the  mortality  of  man  without 
exclaiming  in  the  pathetic  words  of  Shakespeare: 

"The  cloud  capped  towers,  the  gorgeous  palaces, 

The  solemn  temple,  the  great  globe  itself; 

Yea,  all  which  it  inherits  shall  dissolve; 

And,  like  this  insubstantial  pageant,  faded, 

Leave  not  a  wreck  behind." 

Whence  arises  the  irrepressible  reverence  and  tender  affection 
witli  which  I  look  at  this  ruin?  Is  it  that  my  soul,  by  secret  subtile 
process,  invests  the  mouldering  ruin  with  her  own  powers  imagines 
it  a  fellow-being — a  venerable  old  man — a  Nestor  or  Ossian  who  has 
witnessed  «ind  survived  the  ravages  of  successive  generations,  the 
companions  of  his  youth  and  of  his  maturity,  and  now  mourns  his 
own  solitary  and  desolate  condition  and  hails  their  spirits  in  every 
passing  cloud? 

Whatever  may  be  the  cause,  as  I  look  at  it,  I  feel  my  soul  drawn 
forward,  as  by  the  cords  of  the  gentlest  sympathy,  and  involuntarily 
open  my  lips  and  offer  consolation  to  the  drooping  pile. 

•Where  is  the  busy,  bustling  crowd  who  landed  here  200  years 
ago?  Where  is  Capt.  John  Smith?  —  that  pink  of  gallantry,  that 
flower  of  chivalry.  I  fancy  I  can  see  their  first,  slow  and  cautious 
approach  to  the  shore  ;  their  keen  and  vigilant  eyes  piercing  the 
forest  in  every  direction  to  detect  the  lurking  Indian  with  his  toma- 
hawk bow  and  arrow. 


85  ON   THE   WAR-PATH. 

Good  Heaven,  what  an  enterprise,  how  full  of  the  most  fearful 
perils,  and  yet  how  entirely  profitless  to  the  daring  men  who  person- 
ally undertook  and  achieved  it. 

Through  what  a  series  of  the  most  spirit-chilling  hardships  they 
had  to  toil.  How  often  did  they  cast  their  eyes  to  England  in  vain, 
and  with  what  hopes  of  deliverance,  day  after  day,  did  the  little 
famished  crew  strain  their  sight  to  catch  the  white  sail  of  comfort 
and  relief.  But  day  after  day  the  sun  rose  and  set  and  darkness 
covered  the  earth,  but  no  sail  of  comfort  or  relief  came.  How  often 
in  the  pangs  of  hunger,  solitude  and  disconsolation  did  they  think  of 
London — her  shops,  her  markets  groaning  under  the  weight  of 
plenty,  her  streets  swarming  with  gilded  coaches,  bustling  hacks, 
with  crowds  of  Lords  and  Dukes  and  Commons,  with  busy,  contented, 
healthy  faces. 

But  now  where  are  they  all ;  the  little  famished  colony  which 
landed  here  and  the  many-colored  crowd  of  London — where  are  they? 

Gone  where  there  is  no  destruction.  Consigned  to  common 
earth. 

Other  generations  have  succeeded  them — which  are  just  as  busy 
and  bustling  as  those  before — have  sunk  into  the  same  nothingness. 

Another  and  yet  another  billow  has  rolled  on,  each  emulating  its 
predecessor  in  height  and  curling  its  foaming  honors  to  the  clouds, 
then  roaring,  breaking  and  perishing  on  the  same  shore. 

Is  it  not  strange  that  familiarly  and  universally  as  these  things 
are  known,  yet  each  generation  is  as  eager  in  the  pursuit  of  its 
earthly  objects,  projects  its  planes  on  a  scale  as  extensive,  and  as 
laborious  in  their  execution  with  a  spirit  as  ardent  and  unrelaxing  as 
if  their  life  and  this  world  were  to  last  forever? 

It  is  curious  to  reflect  what  a  nation  has  sprung  up  and  flour- 
ished from  that  feeble,  sickly  germ  which  was  planted  here. 

It  is  but  a  step  from  the  sublime  to  the  ridiculous,  and 
involuntarily  I  feel  like  singing  out  across  that  river  of 
oblivion  "  Hello  Smith  !"  as  one  does  to  a  ferryman  to  come 
and  take  us  "over  the  river." 

That  reminds  me  of  once  yelling  myself  hoarse  repeat- 
ing the  customary  signals,  the  words  "over,  over"  to  call 
a  sleepy  ferryman's  attention  to  the  fact  that  I  wanted  to 
get  over  to  his  side.  Finally  he  heard  my  call,  and 
growled  back.  "  you  are  over,  you  durn  fool." 


86  ON   THE    WAR-PATH. 

It  seems  like  a  rude  attempt  at  iconoclasm  to  spoil 
the  pretty  Pocahontas  story,  that  all  American  boys  and 
girls  have  enjoyed  as  a  pleasant  episode  in  their  dull  school- 
books.  But  a  strict  regard  for  truthfulness  of  details 
require  that  I  record  the  tradition  gathered  from  several 
days  spent  in  the  country,  interviewing  the  oldest  inhab- 
itants. Rather  reluctantly  I  concluded  that  her  reputation 
was  not  good.  I  got  the  impression  that  "Poky"  was 
considered  to  have  been  a  great  fraud.  She  is  talked  of 
by  the  old  people  living  about  there  as  being  a  pretty  fast 
young  Indian  flirt.  It  is  said  she  attended  all  the  high 
toned  Indian  balls,  and  excited  the  envy  of  her  compan 
ions  by  her  superior  gyrations.  She  excelled  in  dancing 
the  can-can,  and  at  the  fashionable  watering  places  on  the 
James,  then  frequented  by  her  select  crowd  of  princes  and 
princesses,  her  bathing  costumes  were  regular  stunners. 

She  seems  to  have  made  a  mash  on  John  Smith,  and 
through  her  attractive  charms  led  him  into  the  forest,  and 
this  accounts  for  the  trouble  he  got  into  by  straying  off 
from  the  colonists.  I  venture  the  opinion,  that  there 
never  was  any  trouble  ancient  or  modern  but  there  was  a 
lady  concerned  in  it. 

Old  Powhattan,  the  father  of  Poky,  got  on,  as  they  say 
now-a-days,  and  would  have  clubbed  his  would-be  son-in- 
law,  but  for  the  interposition  of  the  daughter. 

It  is  undoubtedly  true  that  Pocahontas  subsequently 
reformed  and  married  Mr.  Rolfe,  and  as  a  necessary  prelim- 
inary to  this  step,  she  was  baptized  into  the  Church  of 
England.  I  touched  the  rough  stone  font  from  which  she 
was  baptized.  It  may  be  seen  in  the  old  parish  church  at 


ON   THE    WAR-PATH.  87 

Williamsburg.  When  she  visited  England,  John  gave  her 
the  shake. 

Many  of  the  proudest  F.  F.  V/s  trace  their  ancestry 
to  Pocahontas. 

The  history  of  the  colonies  record,  however,  that  twenty 
young  women  of  humble  birth,  but  pure  life,  were  subse- 
quently imported  by  a  Dutch  vessel  and  sold  to  the  planters 
for  wives,  the  payment  being  made  in  tobacco.  I  have  not 
been  able  to  hear  of  any  who  traced  their  ancestry  to  this 
more  prolific  source. 

Here  were  also  landed  the  first  slaves,  along  with  that 
other  twin  relic  of  barbarism — tobacco;  both  of  which  have 
been  a  curse  to  the  advancement  of  Virginia. 

As  a  striking  historical  coincidence,  it  may  also  be  noted 
here,  that  on  this  same  historic  peninsula  almost  within 
sight  of  their  first  landing  place,  the  slaves  were  first  made 
free,  by  General  Butler's  famous  contraband  of  war  order. 

On  this  narrow  neck  of  land,  which  is  only  about  twelve 
miles  in  Avidth,  between  the  James  and  the  York  rivers, 
occurred  the  beginning  and  the  ending  of  the  colonial  and 
revolutionary  epochs  which  closed  with  the  surrender  of 
Cornwallis  at  Yorktown. 

The  colonists  subsequently  moved  six  miles  into  the 
interior,  establishing  their  capital  at  Williamsburg. 

Very  much  may  be  said  of  interest  about  "  Ye  Ancient 
Colonial  Capital." 

Here  may  be  seen  the  tombs  of  Lord  Botetort,  as  also  a 
statue  in  the  campus  of  the  William  and  Mary  college,  one 
of  the  earliest  institutions  established  in  America.  The 
remains  of  a  curious  round  brick  building  is  pointed  out  as 


88  ON   THE   WAR-PATH. 

the  "  powder  horn,"  that  Patrick  Henry  led  his  company  of 
militia  from  Hanover  to  seize,  compelling  the  governor  to 
take  refuge  aboard  an  English  vessel  in  the  York  river. 

The  old  church  remains  in  a  good  state  of  preservation. 
This  was  established  during  the  reign  of  the  earliest 
colonial  governor.  The  silver  service  presented  by  Queen 
Anne,  is  preserved  and  used.  I  believe  that  King  George, 
the  three  times,  presented  the  bell  which  has  called  to  wor- 
ship for  hundreds  of  years  the  flock  within  its  hearing. 

Williamsburg  is  worth  a  visit.  It  is  situated  on  the 
ridge,  or  only  high  ground  on  the  peninsula,  the  waters 
from  each  side  flowing  into  marshes  or  low  ground  con- 
necting with  either  the  James  or  the  York  river. 

The  only  highway  leading  to  Richmond  passes  through 
the  one  long  street  of  the  straggling  old  town.  The  prin- 
cipal promenaders  on  sidewalks  are  the  town  cows. 

The  court-house  is  a  trifling,  ill-arranged  affair,  built 
after  the  design  of  Sir  William  Wren,  the  celebrated  archi- 
tect. 

Along  the  main  street  marched,  in  glorious  array, 
after  the  battle  of  Williamsburg,  on  May  5,  1862,  McClel- 
lan's  magnificent  army  of  60,000. 

A  pleasant  lady  resident  took  great  delight  in  relat- 
ing, to  me,  how  gallantly  the  Federal  veterans  advanced, 
of  their  boasts  of  going  straight  to  Richmond,  and 
then  laughingly  told  of  the  disorderly  return  after  their 
repulses  on  the  Chickahominy.  As  her  story,  so  charm- 
ingly told  at  my  expense,  seemed  to  please  the  assembled 
company,  who  had  listened  approvingly,  I  ventured  to 
modestly  remind  them  of  a  .similar  army  of  80,000,  every 


ON  THE   WAR-PATH.  89 

one  of  whom  was  a  veteran — a  victorious  army  led  by  a 
chief  they  adored — who  had,  in  like  gallant  array, 
marched  through  the  cities  of  Maryland,  giving  the  inhab- 
itants the  information  that  they  were  not  only  going  to 
Washington  but  to  Baltimore  and  Philadelphia.  But  they 
halted  at  a  little  town  in  Pennsylvania  called  Gettysburg, 
and  retired  in  utter  disorder,  very  likely  as  they  had  wit- 
nessed McClellairs  army. 

In  the  church  at  Williamsburg  is  a  tablet  to  the  Con- 
federates who  died  in  defense  of  Williamsburg,  erected  by 
the  ladies  of  the  town,  bearing  the  touching  inscription: 
"THEY  DIED  FOR  US." 

We  might  linger  along  on  this  interesting  peninsula 
and  put  in  as  much  time  as  McClellan.  There  is  much  to 
be  seen  that  we  have  not  been  able  to  even  glance  at. 

Here  was  the  birthplace  and  death-bed  of  slavery,  as 
well  as  of  Bourbonism.  It  is  now  known  politically  as 
the  black  belt,  the  colored  voters  outnumbering  the 
whites. 

Here  the  Indian  was  first  taught  the  white  man's  way. 

In  these  old  homes  lived  the  colonial  governors. 

Our  observations  "On  the  War  Path"  really  begin  at 
ye  ancient  capital  of  Williamsburg.  It  was  from  this  point 
that  the  youthful  Washington  started  on  his  first  scout  on 
the  war  trail  to  Fort  Pitt.  As  the  emissary  of  Dinwoodie, 
the  British  Colonial  Governor,  Washington  went  from 
Williamsburg  through  a  pathless  wilderness  hundreds  of 
miles.  He  got  there. 

It  is  a  singular  fact  that  our  proposed  war  path  leads 
us  almost  in  the  footsteps  of  Washington.  After  leaving 


90  ON  THE   WAR-PATH. 

the  capital  he  traveled  via  the  settlement  of  Richmond, 
and  from  thence  to  Fredericksburg,  where  he  delayed  to 
visit  his  mother  at  his  home.  On  leaving  Fredericksburg, 
he  traveled  precisely  the  paths  since  followed  by  the  Army 
of  the  Potomac  towards  Alexandria.  In  the  subsequent 
journey  as  a  guide  for  Braddock's  army,  he  led  them  over 
the  now  historic  plains  of  Manassa  to  Loudon  County,  and, 
crossing  the  Upper  Potomac  somewhere  in  the  same  vicin- 
ity as  the  Army  of  the  Potomac  and  Confederate  armies,  he 
reached  "  Frederick  town,"  as  we  do  Frederick,  Maryland. 
From  there  we  moved  up  to  Gettysburg,  but  in  going  west 
we  follow  the  footprints  of  that  band,  as  our  dispersed 
armies  did  on  going  to  my  Pennsylvania  home  at  Brad- 
dock's  Field. 

But  we  must  hurry  on  to  Richmond,  without  delaying 
at  the  Chickahominy  Swamps,  but  go  direct  to  the  Con- 
federate capital. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE     CONFEDERATE   CAPITAL,    RICHMOND,    RE-VISITED   BY 
THE   TRAVEL   CLUB. 

E  longest  way  around  is  often  the  nearest;  the 
great  Generals  who  conducted  the  Army  of  the 
Potomac  to  the  Confederate  capital  found  this 
the  best  course  to  pursue.  In  chaperoning  our  club,  I 
have  endeavored  to  guide  you  in  their  illustrious  foot- 
prints. 

I  succeeded  in  reaching  Richmond  alone,  however,  by  a 
shorter  and  more  expeditious  route,  in  the  month  of  August, 
1861,  nearly  three  years  before  the  Generals  got  there.  I 
was  not  a  prisoner,  but  entered  the  enemy's  capital  as  a 
Federal  scout,  and  was  free  to  go  about  the  city  for 
months. 

But  this  is  along  story  which  has  already  been  told.  I 
only  mention  it  here  as  tending  to  show  some  qualification 
as  a  guide  to  the  city,  earned  by  this  thrilling  experience.  A 
lifetime  will  not  efface  from  memory  a  single  detail  of  those 
days  when,  as  a  boy,  I  was  in  Richmond,  not  only  among 
strangers  in  a  strange  land  but  in  the  midst  of  enemies  ; 
in  truth  "  homeless  near  a  thousand  homes  I  stood." 

The  actual  expense  in  the  way  of  fares  by  this  pleasant 
water  route  to  Richmond  is  less  than  by  all  rail. 

The  time  by  water  is  twenty-four  hours,  that  by  rail 
five  hours.  We  will  stop  at  Ford's  hotel,  located  on  the 

hill  between  the  beautiful  and  historical  Capitol  park  and 

01 


92  ON   THE    WAR-PATH. 

Broad  street  from  there  may  be  reached  within  a  square 
or  two,  nearly  all  the  principal  points  of  interest. 

It  was  at  this  house,  then  called  the  Powhattan,  that  I 
lived  during  my  scout  inl8Gl-2,  and  made  the  acquaintance 
of  the  "  Colonel"  and  Lieutenant  Elkton,  "  my  Maryland  " 
friends. 

During  recent  visits  I  have  occupied  the  same  room, 
and,  as  may  be  imagined,  lived  over  again  as  I  sat  by  the 
open  windows  and  looked  out  upon  the  old  scenes  that 
were  burned  into  the  memory  by  the  red-hot  brand  of  war. 

If  I  were  asked  to  mention  that  which  most  impressed 
me  on  my  re-visit,  I  should  unhesitatingly  say  that  it  is  in 
finding  the  city  looking  so  very  much  as  it  did  twenty-five 
years  ago. 

There  is,  indeed,  but  little  to  note  in  the  way  of  modern 
improvement  in  the  Confederate  capital  as  compared  with 
the  great  changes  that  have  come  over  Washington. 

It  may  be  accounted  for  on  the  hypothesis  that  as 
the  oldest  inhabitants  have  retired  from  business,  their  only 
occupation  is  to  hold  on  to  the  titles  and  deeds.  They  are 
of  that  self-satisfied  class  so  peculiar  to  the  South  that 
practice  too  well  the  hunkidori  doctrine,  to  let  well  enough 
alone.  They  won't  do  any  improving  themselves  and  are 
only  obstacles  in  the  path  of  others. 

During  a  visit,  one  of  the  young  men  of  the  new  South 
aptly  expressed  the  situation  when  he  observed  to  me  that 
Richmond  needed,  more  than  anything  else,  a  few  first- 
class  funerals. 

That  portion  of  the  city  destroyed  by  fire  during  the 
evacuation,  has  been  re-built  so  nearly  in  the  old  style  of 


OK   THE   WAR-PATH.  93 

architecture  that  I  almost  failed  to  notice  any  change.  The 
Jewish  merchants  seem  to  retain  their  possession  of  the 
business  on  the  main  streets. 

Jeff  Davis'  executive  office  in  the  old  Mercantile  building 
at  the  foot  of  the  Capitol  Square,  has  given  way  to  a  new 
custom-house  and  post-office  erected  on  the  site  by  the 
Government. 

The  next  most  noticeable  change  is  that  of  a  fine  city 
hall  being  erected  on  the  site  of  the  old  building,  directly 
across  the  park  from  the  post-office. 

In  the  winter  of  1861-2,  Mayor  Mayo  had  his  headquar- 
ters in  an  old  building  here,  as  also  Marshal  Winder  and 
his  Baltimore  plug-ugly  refugees.  There  was  a  constant 
friction  between  the  Mayor's  authority  and  that  of  the 
despotic  provost-marshal,  carpet-bagger  from  Baltimore. 

My  room  in  the  Powhattan  enabled  me  to  see  every  one 
who  entered  that  building,  and  also  afforded  an  outlook 
on  the  park  through  which  I  saw  President  Davis  walk 
daily  between  his  home  and  office. 

The  Capitol  Park  remains  precisely  as  of  eld,  except  for 
the  removal  of  the  Clay  statue  and  the  depositing  of  a  fine 
statue  representing  Stonewall  Jackson,  the  gift  of  some 
"  English  gentlemen,"  as  it  is  inscribed,  which,  by  the  way, 
will  remain  there,  a  perpetual  reminder  and  menace  to  the 
Northern  visitors  of  the  "English  gentlemen's"  sympa- 
thizing sentiments. 

The  Governor's  mansion  is  located  in  one  corner  of  the 
Capitol  grounds.  During  a  recent  visit  it  was  my  privilege 
to  call  upon  Governor  Fitz-Hugh  Lee  at  this  home,  where 
I  was  most  courteously  received  and  hospitably  entertained 
as  a  Federal  re-visitor. 


94  ON   THK    WAR- PATH. 

Inside  the  Capitol  building  everything  looks  cheerless, 
rather  dingy  and  neglected.  The  walls  of  the  cham- 
bers are  liberally  supplied  with  the  portraits  of  Virginia's 
favorite  son,  General  R.  E.  Lee,  flanked  by  his  able  Lieu- 
tenant, Stonewall  Jackson.  One  can  not  help  noticing 
the  omission  of  that  other  grand  Virginia  soldier,  General 
J.  E.  Johnston,  who  surrendered  to  .Sherman  after  Lee. 

Cheap  portraits  of  Lee  and  Jackson  sorrowfully  posing 
by  a  newly-made  grave,  the  imprint  on  the  tombstone  of 
which  is  "The  Constitution" — arc  quite  common  in  Vir- 
ginia. One  sees  them  even  in  colored  barber  shops,  bar 
rooms  and  other  public  places. 

The  first  point  of  interest  to  which  I  have  always  paid 
my  respects  was  Libby  Prison. 

The  hotel  people  and  the  hack  drivers  and  guides  say 
that,  without  exception,  the  first  point  the  tourist  to  Rich- 
mond seeks  is  not  Jeff  Davis'  mansion,  the  Capitol,  or 
Lee's  home,  but  Libby. 

This  ugly  old  brick  structure,  so  sadly  familiar  to 
thousands,  was  the  shrine  to  which  the  old  veteran  invari- 
ably hobbled  the  moment  he  got  ashore  in  the  city. 

When  the  question  of  the  removal  of  this  old  warehouse 
to  Chicago  was  being  agitated,  I  gathered  the  impression 
that  the  objection  to  its  removal  lay  in  the  fact  that  the 
Richmond  Yankees  very  properly  felt  that,  in  parting  with 
this  old  relic  for  a  good  sum,  they  were  killing  the  goose 
that  laid  golden  eggs. 

It  was  represented  that  the  Western  city  would  not  gain 
by  Richmond's  loss,  as  but  few  of  the  Western  soldiers  were 
interested  in  this  Eastern  prison.  However,  the  fact  is 


Off  THE  WAR-PATH.  95 

frequently  overlooked  that  a  majority  of  the  old  Army  of 
the  Potomac  have,  since  the  war,  helped  to  build  up  the 
West. 

The  newspaper  agitation,  however,  probably  accom- 
plished all  that  was  desired  in  securing  an  immense  amount 
of  free  advertising  for  the  sale  of  relic  bricks  from  Libby. 

The  old  warehouse  proper  was  a  three-story  building, 
say  about  150  by  200  feet.  .Calculating  nineteen  bricks  to 
the  square  foot  in  these  walls,  one  may  form  an  idea  of  the 
rich  bonanza  there  was  for  a  while  in  the  supplying  of  Libby 
bricks  at  50c.  and  $1.00  each. 

Probably  sufficient  has  been  distributed  throughout 
the  country  in  this  way  to  rebuild  the  original  structure, 
somewhere  else,  if  they  could  be  again  "contributed." 

When  I  last  saw  it  at  its  old  stand,  the  ugly  old  pile 
looked  quite  familiar,  except  that  its  closed,  deserted  and 
almost  haunted  appearance  created  in  my  breast  a  doubly 
realizing  sense  of  desolation. 

It  was  an  early  Sunday  morning.  The  shops  were 
closed,  and  the  streets  in  the  neighborhood  more  quiet  than 
I  had  seen  them  during  the  war. 

The  large  double  doors  were  closed,  and  barred  on  the 
inside;  the  windows  were  shut  down.  Spiders  had  woven 
their  webs  about  the  iron  gratings,  and  dust  of  years  had 
accumulated  on  everything  that  would  hold  it.  The  little 
8x10  panes  of  glass,  remaining  unbroken  in  the  sash,  were 
so  covered  with  dirt  that  I  could  not  see  into  the  old  shell. 
The  whitewashed  walls  outside  had  been  drenched  by  the 
rains  and  storms  of  twenty-five  years,  leaving  only  a  few 
ghastly-looking  streaks  here  and  there. 


96  ON  THE   WAR-PATH. 

How  different  from  my  first  visit  as  a  boy,  when  all  was 
activity.  Then  in  every  hole  and  corner,  inside  and  out, 
there  was  life  and  soul.  Now  all  were  gone;  only  the  terri- 
ble memories  remaining. 

It  was  during  August,  1861,  shortly  after  the  first  battle 
of  Bull  Eun,  that  I  first  stood  on  the  pavement  outside, 
and  gazed,  with  boyish  feelings  that  I  could  scarcely  repress, 
upon  the  crowded  Federal  prisoners  inside  those  walls. 
All  of  them  seemed  to  be  jolly  and  happy;  most  were  in 
what  might  be  termed  light  marching  order  in  regard  to 
clothing.  Their  hearty,  ringing  laughter,  that  seemed  so 
like  defiance  to  the  solemn  guards,  could  be  heard  squares 
off.  I  recall  Congressman  Ely's  appearance  distinctly,  as 
he  stood  near  a  window,  in  his  shirt-sleeves,  in  earnest  con- 
versation with  a  group  of  officers. 

I  saw  them  every  day.  The  place  had  a  singular  infatu- 
ation then,  and  is  full  of  memories  for  me.  I  have  pre- 
served an  original  photograph,  taken  at  that  time,  copies  of 
which  I  can  supply  those  members  of  the  club  who  desire 
them. 

I  observed  some  alteration  had  been  made  since  the  war; 
on  the  water-front,  an  addition  of  some  forty  feet  of  wall 
had  been  erected,  the  roofs  had  been  renewed,  and  other 
minor  changes  made  in  the  interior,  which  the  engineer  of 
the  fertilizing  works  occupying  the  adjoining  property 
pointed  out  to  me. 

The  watchman,  who  had  eyed  me  quite  suspiciously 
while  peering  about  so  curiously,  thinking,  no  doubt,  1 
was  a  relic  hunter  wanting  a  chance  to  steal  a  brick, 
became  quite  communicHtive  when  I  introduced  myself  as 


ON   THE    WAR-PATH.  97 

a  former  Rebel  soldier.  He  volunteered  the  observation 
that,  if  they  did  not  watch  it  night  and  day,  the  whole  con- 
cern would  be  stolen,  brick  by  brick,  by  the  relic  fiends. 
One  could  scarcely  credit  the  stories  told  of  the  tricks 
resorted  to  by  strangers  to  get  hold  of  a  piece  of  Libby 
before  it  should  be  taken  to  Chicago.  He  pointed  to  where 
a  brick  had  been  dug  out  from  the  wall  the  day  previous,  by 
a  respectable-looking  gentleman  whom  they  had  caught  in 
the  act,  and  took  before  the  Mayor,  who  imposed,  a  heavy 
fine. 

While  the  watchman  was  absent  at  the  station-house, 
another  party  climbed  to  one  of  the  windows  on  the  river 
front,  and  cut  out  a  pane  of  glass.  He  showed  me  the 
putty  crumbs  then  scattered  below,  which  had  attracted 
his  attention  to  this  "robbery,"  as  he  termed  it. 

I  had  made  myself  so  thoroughly  familiar  with  Rich- 
mond streets  and  the  habits  of  the  prominent  Confederate 
officials,  that,  had  the  Federal  cavalry  entered  the  city,  in 
the  years  following,  when  I  rode  with  headquarters  as  a 
scout,  I  could  then  have  acted  as  a  guide  to  that  big  club, 
and  piloted  them  everywhere,  as  I  am  trying  to  do  now 
for  this  club.  It  was  probably  with  a  view  of  using  my 
experience  in  this  direction  that  I  was  so  detailed  at  head- 
quarters, but  I  have  already  tried  to  tell  of  that  experience. 

I  can  not  help,  however,  expressing  the  opinion  that  our 
cavalry  might  have  easily  entered  the  city,  and  not  only 
released  the  prisoners  at  Libby,  but  probably  have  cap- 
tured Jefferson  Davis. 

The  Confederate  White  House,  the  residence  of  Mr. 
Davis,  is  on  the  edge  of  the  bluff  or  hill  overlooking  the 


08  ON    THE    WAK-PATH. 

low  ground  upon  which  the  railways  enter  the  city.  It  is 
but  two  squares  north  from  the  Capitol  grounds  or  our 
hotel.  I  walked  over  there  frequently,  and,  on  the  occasion 
of  a  war  reception,  was  inside  of  the  house  as  a  Federal 
scout.  I  could  have  pointed  out  even  the  bed-chamber  of 
the  President  of  the  Confederacy,  and  should  have  been 
glad  of  the  command  of  a  detachment  to  have  attempted 
his  capture  in  his  night-clothes. 

Gen. .Lee's  family  lived  on  Franklin  street,  a  few  doors 
beyond  St.  Paul's  church.  The  tourist  is  shown  this  as 
the  home  of  Lee,  but  as  a  matter  of  fact,  it  was  only  a 
temporary  home  for  his  family. 

St.  Paul's  church,  where  both  Lee  and  Daris  wor- 
shiped, looks  just  as  it  did  during  the  war. 

It  was  during  the  first  year  of  his  residence  in  this  city 
that  Mr.  Davis  was  baptized  and  confirmed  in  this  church. 
It  will  be  remembered  that  during  the  church  service  on  the 
April  Sunday  of  1865, he  received  the  telegram  from  General 
Lee  announcing  that  he  could  no  longer  protect  Richmond. 

I  always  attend  service  here  when  I  am  in  Richmond 
over  Sundays. 

The  Spottswood  Hotel,  from  the  balcony  of  which  Mr. 
oreckinridge  responded  to  his  reception  in  Richmond, 
was  burned. 

The  Exchange  and  Ballard,  connected  by  the  bridge  or 
causeway  over  the  street,  remain  as  of  old. 

The  old  theatre  building  below  it,  where  I  saw  the 
actress  tramp  under  feet,  amid  tumultuous  applause,  the 
United  States  flag,  is  yet  a  dime  museum.  The  Confed- 
erates generally  confess  that  their  first  mistake  was  in 


OK   THE   WAR-PATH.  99 

insulting  the  flag  at  Ft.  Sumter,  and  they  express  regrets 
that  they  ever  adopted  a  separate  flag,  believing  they  would 
have  fought  with  greater  success  had  they  retained  the 
"Old  Glory." 

I  walked  down  there  and  stood  upon  the  same  step 
upon  which  I  was  almost  paralyzed  by  being  familiarly 
recognized  by  an  old  friend.  It  was  over  that  hill,  on  this 
street,  that  the  colored  Federal  troops  first  entered 
the  city.  Col.  J.  B  Jones'  blockade  post-office  has  been 
remodeled  into  a  business  block.  Franklin  street  remains, 
as  of  old,  the  handsome,  aristocratic  residence  thoroughfare 
of  Richmond. 

There  are  some  elegaiit  old  homesteads  here,  occupied 
by  the  most  cultivated  as  well  as  courteous  and  hospitable 
families,  nearly  all  of  which  are  surrounded  by  beautiful 
gardens.  The  houses  generally,  architecturally,  present  a 
stately  and  dignified  appearance.  One  may  see  here  any 
number  of  Grecian  portals  and  immense  Corinthian  pillars 
to  private  dwellings.  I  could  not  find  a  single  bay  window 
in  Richmond.  In  Washington  one  can't  find  a  residence 
that  isn't  two-thirds  bay  window  from  cellar  to  roof. 

Of  course  I  should  like  to  take  the  boys  of  our  Travel 
Club  around  to  see  "Capitola,"  the  bewitching  "  Maryland  " 
white  slave,  whose  chains  President  Davis  so  dramatically 
removed  for  our  entertainment,  and  in  which  we  immedi- 
ately became  tangled. 

A  peculiarity  of  Southern  homes  is  that  each  has  a 
name  of  its  own.  Capitola's  was  called  by  the  boys 
"  Poplar  Grove,"  because  one  sickly  poplar  tree  stood  in 
front  of  it.  I  had  no  difficulty  in  finding  the  house, 


100  ON  THE   WAK-PATH. 

because  I  had  been  there  so  often,,  you  know.  I  did  not 
see  the  pretty,  dark-eyed  little  brunette,  "  my  Maryland/* 
but  a  hospitably  inclined  young  lady  of  whom  I  made 
some  awkward  inquiries,  cordially  entertained  me,  and  in 
an  agreeable  manner  offered  consolation  for  my  disap- 
pointment. 

While  living  at  Fords,  on  the  Powhattan,  a  number  of 
Maryland  "refugees"  being  there,  it  was  my  privilege  to 
become  quite  intimately  associated  with  them.  As  long 
as  life  lasts,  I  shall  never  forget  the  songs  they  sang,  espe- 
cially that  pathetically  beautiful  "Maryland,  my  Mary- 
land." If  the  young  lady  players  have  not  heard  this  old 
war  song,  I  advise  them  to  procure  it,  and  while  you  play 
and  sing,  try  and  realize  how  it  would  sound  to  you  as  a 
serenade  if  away  from  home — surrounded  on  all  sides  by 
the  very  sounds  and  smoke  of  a  terrible  war. 

We  will  visit  Camp  Lee,  now  the  new  fair  grounds,  but 
during  the  war  the  rendezvous  for  Confederate  recruits  and 
conscripts,  where  I  was  encamped  during  the  months  of 
November,  December,  and  part  of  January,  1861-62,  as  a 
Federal  scout. 

It  was  at  this  place  I  saw  President  Davis,  attended  by 
staff,  review  the  cavalry  of  General  Ransom,  now  the 
courteous  senator  from  North  Carolina ;  here  the  Rich- 
mond ladies  were  wont  to  come  to  bring  to  the  exiled 
Maryland  refugees  their  sweet  smiles  and  words  of  encour- 
agement, or  solid  comfort  contained  in  baskets  laden  with 
dainties  and  perhaps  useful  articles  of  wearing  apparel. 
It  was  here  we  "  boys"  first  met  the  bewitching  Baltimore 
lady  refugee,  Capitola,  with  whom  we  all  became  so  thor- 


ON  THE    WAK-PATH.  101 

oughly  enamored  through  the  mutual  sympathies  engen- 
dered by  the  sorrows  of  our  " banishment"  from  home. 

I  mention  it  as  a  somewhat  remarkable  coincidence,  that 
on  the  occasion  of  a  recent  revisit  to  this  old  camp,  I 
received  from  the  hands  of  one  of  the  indentical  refugees 
who  had  been  a  companion  here,  and  whom  I  had  not  seen 
or  heard  from  since  the  war,  a  letter  and  package  of  Balti- 
more papers  containing  a  two-column  attack  captioned  with 
display  lines,  "  The  Boy  Spy's  slanders  refuted." 

I  should  like  to  incorporate  this  entire  article  here,  not 
that  it  is  at  all  flattering.  On  the  contrary  it  is  an  exceed- 
ingly hostile  and  bitter  criticism,  which  was  intended  to 
be  quite  crushing  in  effect.  The  author,  who  had  also 
been  an  alleged  Maryland  refugee,  writes  with  a  resentful- 
ness  that  is  evidently  fathered  by  regret  that  I  had  not 
been  hung  then,  but  yet  felt  that  he  was  not  too  late,  if  the 
chance  were  offered,  to  Ku-Klux  me. 

Though  printed  as  refutations,  they  are  in  effect,  invol- 
untary corroborations,  from  this  Confederate  source,  of 
the  truthfulness  of  the  Boy's  Richmond  narrative. 

The  article  admits  that  I  was  in  Richmond  as  stated; 
that  my  true  character  was  unknown,  though  there  were 
some  suspicious  circumstances  attaching  certain  move- 
ments at  that  time.  The  dates  I  gave  are  slightly  cor- 
rected ;  but  the  fact  that  I  was  nominally  associated  with 
the  Maryland  refugee  battery  some  time  previous  to  report- 
ing to  Camp  Lee,  was  unknown  to  the  writer,  whom  I  did 
not  know  personally. 

That  I  was  detailed  as  the  company  clerk  and  handled 
alt  the  papers  and  had  liberty  to  go  as  I  pleased'  through- 
out Richmond  is  conceded, 


102  ON   THE    WAR-PATH. 

Much  feeling  is  shown  at  the  comparison  of  Maryhmd 
refugees  in  the  Confederate  army  with  the  more  numerous 
East  Tennessee  Unionists  in  the  Federal  army,  a  subject, 
by  the  way,  worthy  of  greater  consideration  by  war  writers. 

In  replying  to  the  statement  that  the  Maryland  refugee 
business  was  a  source  of  annoyance  and  of  no  especial 
benefit  to  the  Confederate  authorities,  as  but  a  compara- 
tively small  percentage  of  refugees  were  from  Maryland,  he 
gives  his  own  case  away  by  saying  that  of  the  125  or  150 
men  comprised  in  the  3d  Battery  of  Maryland  Artillery 
twenty  were  bona  fide  Marylanders. 

This  admission,  that  so  small  a  percentage  were  Mary- 
landers,  is  greatly  exaggerated,  as  I  was  one  of  these 
twenty  alleged  refugees.  A  greater  portion  of  the  remaining 
were  refugees  from  Ireland  and  Germany,  or  deserters  from 
other  Confederate  organizations.  The  personnel  of  this 
Baltimore  battery,  as  described,  is  held  up  to  Baltimore 
Confederates,  now,  as  a  reflection  on  dead  Confederates,  the 
object  being  to  cater  to  a  prejudice  in  that  quarter.  I  have 
no  apologies  to  offer ;  as  a  matter  of  fact,  I  am  more 
liable  to  a  charge  of  finding  fault  with  our  own  than  with 
the  Confederate  officers. 

In  this  case  I  told  the  truth  about  the  Confederate  cap- 
tain. I  did  not  name  him,  but  he  is  a  brother  of  the  well- 
known  Mayor  Latrobe,  of  Baltimore.  He  was  subsequently 
cashiered  and  dishonorably  dismissed  by  the  Confederate 
authorities,  and  is  yet  living  to  defend  himself. 

Lieutenant  Kowan,  or  Elkton,  of  the  story,  became  the 
captain,  and  was  killed  beside  his  guns  at  Nashville.  The 
"  Colonel"  was  a  Sergeant  Hooper,  of  Cambridge,  Mary- 


OX   THE   WAR-PATH.  103 

land ,  who,  I  have  siuce  learned,  left  the  battery  in  disgust, 
because  the  writer  of  that  article  cheated  him  out  of  his 
promised  and  well-merited  promotion.  He  is  also  dead. 

Mr.  Buchanan  was  also  transferred  from  the  battery  at 
his  own  request,  and  is,  I  believe,  at  the  present  time  an 
employe  at  the  United  States  Custom-Housein  Baltimore. 
I  have  no  doubt  that  he  will  bear  me  out  in  the  statement 
that  the  dismemberment  of  this  so-called  Maryland  ref- 
ugee organization  was  threatened  while  in  Krioxville, 
because  of  the  incongruous  and  insubordinate  material  of 
which  it  was  composed. 

The  attempt  to  besmirch  the  Boy  is  verified  by  the 
writer's  own  admission,  that  he  was  made  first  corporal 
and  entrusted  with  the  company  records — selected  as  one 
of  the  guards  at  Parson  Brownlow's  house  in  Knoxville, 
and  was  subsequently  detailed  to  carry  the  important 
dispatches  to  Cumberland  Gap,  precisely  as  stated. 

I  beg  the  indulgence  of  the  club  to  these  personal 
explanations,  as  they  say  in  Congress  when  a  newspaper 
.attacks  a  member  and  he  wants  to  reply  through  the  Asso- 
ciated Press  and  Record. 

The  Baltimore  newspaper  which  printed  this  ventila- 
tion of  personal  spleen  and  prejudice  and  opinions  which 
they  dubb  refutations,  positively  refused  to  publish  a 
hundred  words  of  reply,  because,  as  they  said,  "  Baltimore 
is  filled  with  ex-Confederates/' 

I  beg  to  take  this  method  of  pnttiug  on  record,  for  the 
Baltimore  Confederates  as  well  as  those  elsewhere,  that,  as  a 
Federal  soldier  and  newspaper  writer,  I  never  impugned  the 
motives  or  patriotism  of  the  genuine  Confederate  veteran. 


104  ON   THE    WAR-PATH. 

They  had  in  their  armies  numerous  frauds,  bounty  jump- 
ers, cowards  and  skulkers,  precisely  as  we  had,  and  these 
are  their  blatant  survivors. 

As  illustrating  the  point,  I  refer  to  page  252,  Boy  Spy, 
referring  to  Confederate  officers  as  follows: 

"  Our  other  lieutenant  was  a  Mr.  Claiborne,  one  of  the 
genuine  sons  of  the  South,  not  a  Marylander,  but  a  native 
of  Mississippi,  and  as  clever  and  as  courteous  a  young 
gentleman  as  it  has  ever  been  my  pleasure  to  meet.  I  re- 
call my  acquaintance  with  Lieutenant  Claiborne,  though 
formed  in  this  surreptitious  way,  as  one  of  the  most  agree- 
able in  which  I  have  ever  shared. 

"If  it  shall  so  happen  that  this  writing  may  meet  his 
own  eye,  or  that  of  his  family  or  friends — and  I  have  given 
the  correct  name — he  will  understand  some  of  my  actions 
toward  him,  which  were  at  that  time,  to  say  it  briefly, 
inexplicable. 

"Lieutenant  Claiborne,  I  think,  followed  the  Confed- 
erate fortunes  to  the  end — I  am  sure  he  did  so  if  he  lived 
to  see  the  end — for,  without  a  doubt,  he  was  earnestly, 
though  quietly,  sincere  in  his  devotion  to  the  cause  of  the 
South." 

I  did  not  know  of  his  subsequent  history  when  this 
paragraph  was  printed  a  few  years  ago.  It  was  only 
since  the  story  has  revived  the  interest  in  the  matter  that 
I  learned  that  Lieutenant  Claiborne  died  beside  the  guns 
of  his  battery,  bravely  doing  his  duty — the  soil  of  his 
native  State  absorbing  his  blood  the  day  before  the  sur- 
render at  Vicksburg. 

He  was  a  handsome,  black-eyed,  typical  Confederate 


ON   THE    WAR-PATH.  105 

officer,  who  was  my  companion,,  my  friend  and  rival,  whose 
courteous,  gentlemanly  bearing  and  seductive  smiles  cut 
me  out  of  all  the  girls  I  was  at  so  much  trouble  to  look  up 
and  foolish  enough  to  introduce  my  friend  to,  because  I 
admired  him  so  much  myself. 

I  remembered  nothing  of  Claiborne's  home  affairs, 
except  that  he  was  well  connected  with  the  celebrated 
family  of  that  name  in  Mississippi. 

It  was,  therefore,  most  gratifying  to  receive  a  letter 
bordered  with  deep  mourning,  through  the  mails,  from  his 
mother. 

I  have  never  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting  this  lady, 
who  no  doubt  symbolized,  in  courtly  grace,  the  ladies  of  the 
old  South,  as  her  son  did  of  the  younger  generation. 
Among  the  many  letters  received  from  various  sources, 
I  esteem  this  most  highly,  as  testifying  to  a  Federal  sol- 
dier's voluntary  tribute  to  a  Confederate. 

March  20,  1887. 
MAJOR  KERBEY, 

My  Dear  Sir:  I  shall  be  delighted  to  see  ' '  The  Boy  Spy  "  any 
time  as  soon  as  convenient  to  him  after  mid-day  to-morro\v,  and  I  am 
truly  glad  to  get  this  near  to  him  at  last.  If  I  were  not  sick  in  bed, 
where  I  have  been  for  the  last  five  days,  I  should,  try  to  make  you 
understand  with  what  heartfelt  enjoyment  I  read  the  paragraph 
which  spoke  of  my  son  as  if  the  writer  had  known  him  always  just 
as  all  who  knew  him  spoke  of  him  to  me.  If  I  had  uot  been  sick  on 
Wednesday,  my  little  nephew,  Ferdinand.  Claiborne  Walsh,  would 
have  taken  you  a  note,  begging  you  to  call  on  me  as  soon  as  possible; 
as  it  was,  I  asked  a  friend  to  call  at  your  office  and  tell  you  how 
anxious  I  was  to  meet  you.  I  found  your  address  in  the  paper  of  the 
8th  inst.,  and  intended  sending  for  you  as  soon  as  I  should  be  able  to 
leave  my  room.  To-morro\v,  should  I  be  well  enough,  I  shall  look 
for  you  until  I  see  you.  It  isn't  often  one  has  an  opportunity  of 
making  another  (and  that  other  an  old  lady  of  seventy-five)  as  happy 
as  this  meeting  with  such  words  of  commendation  of  my  son  and 


106  ON   THE    AVAR-PATH. 

only  child  has  made  me;  and  wherever  you  spoke  of  him  I  noticed  it 
was  in  the  same  high  terms.  Surely  the  recording  angel  will  blot 
out  many  a  sin  from  your  record  for  thus  giving  comfort  to  the  child- 
less widow.  You  can  understand,  then,  the  pleasure  your  note  received 
yesterday  has  given  me.  I  was  not  able  to  write  until  to-day.  Hoping 
I  shall  see  you  very  soon,  believe  me  I  am  truly  yours, 

MAKY  STANFORD  CLAIBORNE. 

During  my  visit  to  Richmond,  letters  from  this  malig- 
nant Baltimore  Rebel,  conspicuously  addressed  to  ' '  The  Boy 
Spy/'  came  to  me  at  the  hotel;  and  marked  papers  were 
freely  distributed,  the  object  being  to  identify  and  annoy 
me  while  in  Richmond.  It  failed  of  its  purpose,  as  it  was 
my  pleasure  to  have  been  specially  invited  to  visit  the 
armory  of  the  celebrated  1st  Virginia  regiment,  where  any 
Northern  visitor  interested  in  such  matters  may  spend  an 
evening  most  agreeably. 

I  shall  be  glad  to  take  the  Club  to  the  R.  E.  Lee  Camp  of 
Confederate  Veterans,  where  you  will  be  surrounded  by  a  lot 
of  old  Rebs  wearing  the  gray  only  in  their  hair,  who  will,  in 
a  most  hospitable  manner,  take  each  by  the  arm  and  escort 
him  around,  not  as  a  prisoner,  but  as  a  friend  whom  they 
are  glad  to  welcome  to  their  battle-scarred  old  town. 

The  Confederate  Soldiers'  Home  occupies  several  acres 
of  rather  barren  ground  in  the  western  suburbs.  The  main 
building  was,  I  believe,  once  used  as  a  school.  Seven  or 
eight  cottages,  each  built  by  the  separate  donors  whose 
names  they  bear,  are  arranged  on  the  flanks,  similar  in 
plan,  as  well  as  architecture,  to  our  camp-meeting 
grounds. 

There  are  only  110  inmates,  who  looked  quite  familiar 
in  their  gray  uniforms.  The  small  number  seems  quite 


ON   THE    WAR-PATH.  107 

trifling  as  compared  with  the  2,500  at  Hampton.  I  under- 
stood the  percentage  of  foreigners,  however,  was  about 
the  same. 

It  is  not  generally  known  that  this  home  for  the  dis- 
abled Confederates  probably  owes  its  existence  to  the 
G.  A.  R.  organizations  of  their  former  enemies.  The  efforts 
inaugurated  by  the  Phil  Kearney  Post,  of  Richmond, 
secured  about  $8,000  in  cash  toward  its  inception. 

On  one  of  the  large  buildings  on  the  north  side  of  the 
square  the  visitor  will  see  the  sign,  Veterans'  Army  Asso- 
ciation of  Blue  and  Gray;  also  Phil  Kearney  Post,  G.  A.  R. 
Here  the  veteran  may  find  a  comfortable  place  to  rest, 
and  a  comrade  in  blue  may  be  found,  no  doubt,  to  act  as  a 
guide  to  the  different  parts'of  the  city. 

During  an  evening  walk,  I  chanced  to  see  a  half-dozen 
boys  in  blue  standing  about  the  doorway,  as  if  waiting  for 
some  one.  Taking  a  good  look,  to  be  sure  that  they  were 
not  Rebs  in  blue  that  I  had  been  taken  in  by,  in  Vir- 
ginia., on  former  occasions,  I  inquired  cautiously  what  was 
up.  A  clever  comrade  replied,  courteously,  that  they  were 
to  be  received  as  a  G.  A.  R.  organization  at  the  fair  then 
being  held  at  the  armory.  My  curiosity  got  the  better  of 
my  surprise,  and  I  made  myself  known  as  a  G.  A.  R.  com- 
rade, when  I  was  at  once  urged  to  join  them  in  their 
march  to  the  Confederate  fair.  I  had  no  uniform,  not 
even  a  bronze  button;  but  the  password  was  sufficient,  and 
I  was  pressed  into  the  ranks  and  marched  with  them,  along 
broad  streets,  to  the  music  of  "Yankee  Doodle"  and 
"  Marching  Through  Georgia." 

The  hall  was  gorgeously  decorated  and  filled  with  some 


108  ON   THE    AVAR-PATH. 

of  Richmond's  beautiful  daughters,  who  gave  the  old 
Yankees  their  welcome  smiles  while  the  band  played 
inspiriting  National  airs  as  we  filed  around  through  the 
crowded  hall. 

It  was  my  pleasure  to  meet  there  Gen.  Edgar  Allen, 
well  known  as  a  prominent  attorney  and  politically  as 
"Yankee  Allen,"  who  is  commander  of  the  department 
and  a  Senior  Vice  of  the  entire  organization. 

It  will  astonish  old  soldiers  to  find  that  there  is,  in  reality, 
but  little  political  friction  between  the  Confederates  and 
Federals  in  Virginia. 

Quite  a  number  of  ex- Confederates  are  Republicans,  and 
I  was  surprised  to  find  my  file  closer,  on  this  evening,  to  be 
an  old  6th  New  York  cavalryman  and  a  staunch  Democrat. 
Of  the  two  Republican  factions,  General  Mahone  is  under- 
stood to  be  the  leader  of  the  Confederate  Republicans; 
while  his  antagonist,  John  S.  Wise,  heads  the  old  line 
Whig,  or  Civilian  Republicans,  who  object  to  being 
"  bossed  " — as  they  term  it — by  ex-Rebels. 

Whole  chapters  maybe  written  about  the  new  industries 
that  are  being  so  wonderfully  developed  in  Virginia  since  the 
war.  They  have  the  coal  for  fuel  in  the  greatest  abund- 
ance, the  ores  are  practically  inexhaustible,  a  most  pro- 
ductive soil,  and  a  more  congenial  climate  than  that  of 
the  great  West.  Good  farms  in  fair  condition  may 
to-day  be  bought  in  these  fertile  Virginia  valleys  at  less 
than  is  paid  for  the  unimproved  land  in  the  blizzard 
country.  Northern  emigration,  especially  of  the  farming 
and  manufacturing  class,  is  particularly  desired  in  the 
South,  if  accompanied  by  small  capital.  The  better  class 
of  white  laborers  are  also  welcome  in  certain  sections. 


Otf  THE   WAR-PATH.  109 

There  is  no  hesitation,  however,  on  the  part  of  the 
people  living  here,  in  expressing  their  opposition  to  pro- 
miscuous foreign  immigration — they  want  only  that  class  of 
workers  who  do  not  get  pains  in  the  back. 

The  old  fellow,  whom  I  met  on  the  swamp  farm  on  the 
peninsula  along  the  Ohickahominy  where  the  principal 
crop  is  bull-frogs,  and  they  say  in  good  seasons  the  product 
equals  forty  bushels  to  the  acre,  gave  me  his  views  on  the 
labor  question  while  he  chewed  tobacco  savagely  and  spit 
vigorously  that  portion  of  it  that  did  not  leak  out  the 
corners  of  his  mouth. 

"  We  doant  want  no  white  niggars  hyar.  Fm  ninety 
year  old,  drunk  whiskey,  chawed  terbacker  and  voted  the 
Dimocrat  ticket  all  my  life,  and  I  tell  you  white  labor 
haint  reliable.  I  fit  into  the  war  until  Mister  Grant  told  us 
to  take  our  hosses  and  go  home  and  plow.  Waal,  my  hoss 
war  a  mule,  and  I  turned  my  gnu  into  a  plow-share,  as 
the  preachers  advised.  Waal,  along  one  warm  May  day, 
soon  ater  the  surrender,  I  started  in  to  plow,  myself — all 
my  niggers  had  gone  off  with  the  Yankees.  Waal,  gen- 
tleman, I  plowed,  and  sweated,  and  plowed  and  swore 
on  that  day,  befo  dinner  time  come  mo  than  I  did  all 
endurin  the  wah.  I  got  demoralized  and  wanted  to  quit 
agin.  I  sat  on  my  plow-beam  all  afternoon,  and  you've 
heer  teel  of  that  Britisher  that  wished  for  night  or 
Blucher?  Waal,  I  wished  for  night  or  a  nigger — no  sah, 
white  labor  aint  reliable." 

The  principal  crop  in  Virginia  has  always  been 
tobacco.  This  product  has  probably  been  the  cause  of 
more  legislation,  litigation,  internal  revenue  and  trouble 


110  ON   THE    WAB-PATII. 

«L 

generally,  than  all  the  other  interests  combined.  The 
chief  industry  of  Richmond  is  in  the  manufacture,  pack- 
ing and  shipping  of  tobacco  in  its  various  forms.  The 
most  recent  is  that  of  the  cigarette  establishments,  where 
thousands  of  white  girl  operatives  are  employed,  but  as 
this  branch  of  the  business  has  been  so  well  advertised  in 
the  cigarette  pictures,  we  can  check  it  off. 

There  is  nothing  of  special  historic  interest  in  Rich- 
mond that  may  not  be  seen  in  one  day,  at  an  expense  of, 
say  two  dollars.  There  were  no  important  battles  nearer 
the  city  than  those  of  Seven  Pines  and  Fair  Oaks.  I  paid 
five  dollars  for  a  drive  out  there,  and  would  not  advise 
any  one  to  make  the  trip,  with  a  view  of  recognizing  any- 
thing. Quite  a  heavy  growth  of  young  pines  has  grown 
up  and  almost  obliterated  every  trace  of  the  famous  battle- 
fields, by  the  changed  aspect  of  the  ground.  A  little 
National  cemetery  embraces  the  seven  pine  trees,  from 
which  the  name  was  taken.  The  superintendent's  lodge  and 
the  few  lonely  graves,  with  the  flag  waving  over  them,  is 
the  only  sign  of  life  left  upon  a  field  which  was,  one  even- 
ing, a  scene  of  the  wildest  excitement.  And  we  may  here 
say  that  the  city  might  then  have  been  taken.  Does  any 
of  the  later-fay  soldiers  think  that  the  old  Army  of  the 
Potomac  was  camped  in  1862  within  four  miles  of  Rich- 
mond? 

On  the  way  out  we  stopped  a  few  moments  at  the  Union 
National  cemetery,  located  on  this  road  leading  to  the 
North.  Though  somewhat  isolated  and  located  on  the  op- 
posite side  of  the  city  from  the  Confederate,  at  Hollywood, 
it  is  more  beautiful  by  contrast,  because  of  the  greater  care 


ON    THE    WAK-PATH.  Ill 

that  is  taken  of  it  by  the  agreeable  superintendent,  who, 
by  the  way,  I  discovered  to  have  been  an  old  regular 
cavalryman,  who  left  one  of  his  arms  on  this  field. 

This  superintendent  volunteered  the  pleasant  informa- 
tion that  the  Confederates  always  march  out  to  the  Union 
cemetery  on  Decoration  Day,  and  strew  the  graves  of  the 
Federal  dead  with  flowers. 

I  am  glad  to  be  able  to  record  my  testimony,  gathered 
from  an  actual  observation  in  late  years,  as  well  as  by  per- 
sonal contact,  that  there  is  a  genuine  sincerity  and  good 
feeling  on  the  part  of  Confederate  veterans  toward  the 
Federals,  both  dead  and  living. 

While  in  Richmond  I  witnessed  the  funeral  of  a  promi- 
nent citizen,  who  had  been  an  active  member  of  several 
societies.  My  attention  being  attracted  by  the  music,  I 
followed.  I  always  follow  a  band,  just  as  I  did  when  a 
boy,  and  on  coming  up  to  this  procession,  I  observed  with 
feelings  that  I  may  not  describe,  but  which  I  should  like 
some  of  our  Northern  Gr.  A.  R.  men  to  have  witnessed. 
The  guard  of  honor  on  each  side  of  the  hearse  was  com- 
posed of  the  blue  and  the  gray.  On  one  side  walked  men 
in  the  blue  uniform  of  the  G.  A.  R.,  and  on  the  other,  the 
gray  of  the  Confederate  Veterans.  Put  yourselves,  in 
imagination,  in  my  place  in  that  beautiful  cemetery  on  that 
May  morning  of  1887,  and  have  your  heartstrings  touched 
by  the  scene,  and  surroundings  and  music,  till  the  old  frame 
vibrates  under  such  influences  so  violently  that  all  old  war- 
prejudice  and  animosity  is  forever  shaken  out  of  you. 

I  am  tempted  to  say  that  the  best  part  of  Richmond  is 
to  be  found  in  her  beautiful  cemeteries. 


112  OX   THE   WAR-PATH. 

Hollywood  may  be  briefly  described  as  the  most  sacred 
soil  in  all  Virginia. 

No  one  should  go  to  Richmond  without  visiting  Holly- 
wood. It  may  be  reached  by  street-car  lines  at  a  cost  of 
10  cents.  If  time  is  short,  mark  off  everything  else  on 
the  list  of  attractions,  but  see  Hollywood  before  you  die. 

On  my  visits  I  spent  part  of  each  day  out  there.  Dur- 
ing the  beautiful  Virginia  autumn  weather  of  October  and 
November,  1862,  I  believe  that  I  walked  out  to  these  beau- 
tiful grounds  every  pleasant  Sunday  afternoon,  lounging 
under  the  big  trees  on  the  hillside  overlooking  the  James 
river  and  listening  to  the  roar  of  the  rushing  waters  over 
the  falls,  that  I,  in  boyish  dreams  believed  flowed  on  towards 
friends  and  home,  and  wishing  and  longing  that  like  a 
bubble  I  might  ride  on  its  bosom  and  it  would  bear  me  away 
safely  and  surely  inside  the  Union  lines.  Many  prisoners  on 
Belle  Isle,  nearly  opposite,  have  looked  towards  these  green 
slopes  dotted  with  the  white  tombstones,  wishing,  almost, 
that  they  were  at  rest  there  instead  of  enduring  a  living 
burial  in  that  prison. 

One  might  imagine  from  the  numerous  great  rocks  that 
hold  their  heads  above  the  spray  of  the  dashing  waters, 
that  one  could  step  from  stone  to  stone  from  Belle  Isle 
to  Hollywood  shore  ;  but  a  wild,  tearing,  wicked-looking 
depth  of  water  dashing  against  and  rushing  around  the  huge 
boulders,  and  then  frothing  with  anger,  apparently,  at  the 
impediment,  would  deter  the  stoutest  heart  from  an  attempt. 

But  few  of  the  casual  visitors  to  Hollywood  have  dis- 
covered a  little  fifteen  by  twenty-foot  private  lot  almost 
on  the  edge  of  the  bluff,  enclosed  by  a  plain  cast-iron  fence, 


Otf  THE   WAR-PATH.  113 

on  the  gate  of  which  is  a  tablet  bearing  the  name  of 
Jefferson  Davis.  There  is  but  one  little  grave  inside,  a 
lonely  little  grave  in  the  center  of  the  lot,  in  which  lie  the 
remains  of  the  infant  son  of  Mr.  Davis,  who  died  from  the 
effects  of  a  fall. 

It  was  during  the  last  year  of  the  war — when  Grant  was 
battling  around  the  Confederate  Capital — when  the  little 
children  were  innocently  playing  around  in  front  of 
the  executive  mansion,  this  little  pet  baby-boy  fell  from 
the  steps  to  the  ground,  dislocating  his  neck.  It  was  a 
sad  blow  to  the  parents,  made  doubly  so  by  the  surround- 
ings and  nature  of  the  fatal  occurrence. 

The  Sunday-school  children  of  Richmond's  war  days, 
in  their  times  of  poverty,  themselves,  contributed  their 
mites  to  purchase  this  lot,  to  which,  keeping  step  to  the 
booming  of  the  cannon,  in  a  body  they  followed  the 
remains  of  their  President's  baby. 

This  little  boy  sleeps  there  yet  in  his  long  sleep  of  inno- 
cence, the  spot  having  become  a  shrine  for  those  who  were 
Sunday-school  children  while  we  were  thundering  at  their 
gates ;  but  never  for  a  Sunday  disturbing  their  regular  ser- 
vices. 

Close  by  this  is  the  tomb  of  ex-President  Monroe,  over 
which  a  beautiful  piece  of  iron  work  has  been  erected. 

In  striking  contrast  with  this,  is  the  simple  mound  in 
an  uninclosed  lot,  which  is  the  only  mark  over  the  remains 
of  another  ex-President — Mr.  Tyler.  It  was  his  request 
that  no  stone  or  mark  be  placed  at  his  grave.  The  turf  is 
kept  green  and  the  mound  tenderly  cared  for  by  his  Vir- 
ginia descendants. 


114  ON  THE   WAR-PATH. 

On  a  knoll  is  a  massive  but  plain  slab  to  the  memory  of 
ex-Governor  Henry  A.  Wise  and  his  family. 

Lieutenant-General  A.  P.  Hill,  who  was  killed  just  four 
days  before  the  surrender  of  Lee,  is  resting  in  a  pretty 
spot.  No  stone  has  yet  been  placed  to  his  grave,  the  only 
designation  being  the  name,  A.  P.  Hill,  without  title, 
cut  on  the  stone  steps  that  lead  into  the  inclosure. 

One  of  the  attractive  features  of  Hollywood  as  distin- 
guished from  all  other  cemeteries  that  I  have  visited,  is  in 
its  broken  grounds,  beautifully  diversified  by  hills  and 
little  valleys,  through  which  pretty  streams  or  murmuring 
brooks  "go  on  forever"  singing  a  sadly  quiet  lullaby  to 
the  sleeper,  or  the  watcher  who  is  only  waiting. 

Near  one  of  these  little  streams  is  a  tall  shaft  to  the 
memory  of  Gen.  J.  E.  B.  Stuart.  As  an  old  cavalryman 
of  the  Federal  army,  that  was  often  pushed  by  him,  it  was 
my  privilege  to  stand  uncovered  by  his  grave,  with  a  sense 
of  the  deepest  respect  for  his  memory. 

Commander  Maury  is  near  by;  so  is  Chief  Justice  Mar- 
shall. Indeed,  one  wanders  through  these  large  grounds, 
finding  on  the  tombstones  name  after  name  that  is  famil- 
iar to  all  readers  of  American  history. 

On  the  other  side,  farthest  from  the  river,  sleeps  an 
entire  army  of  Confederate  soldiers,  who  were  killed  in 
battle  or  died  near  here.  This  Confederate  section  is  the 
Arlington  of  Richmond,  though  not  to  be  compared  with 
the  Arlington  of  Washington  in  keeping  and  attention. 
In  place  of  the  head-stones  supplied  to  all  Federal  dead  by 
the  Government,  we  find  here  small  wooden  posts — on 
which  are  tacked  tin  tags,  bearing,  in  some  cases,  the 


OX   THE    WAR-PATH".  115 

names,  but  in  a  majority  only  a  number,  almost  washed 
out  by  the  storms — indicating  the  last  resting-place  of 
thousands  whose  memories  are  as  dear  to  the  bleeding 
hearts  of  Southern  mothers  as  are  those  to  our  own 
hearts  that  are  being  more  carefully  preserved  by  our 
Government. 

Will  the  time  ever  come  when  this  great  Government 
will  provide  alike  for  the  dead  soldiers  of  both  armies? 

Surely  a  stone  may  be  given  to  mark  the  last  resting- 
place  of  an  enemy,  when  we  give  bread  to  the  living  Fed- 
eral pensioner  and  his  dependent  family. 

A  large  pyramid  twenty  feet  square  at  the  base  and 
about  eighty  feet  in  height,  built  of  Virginia  blocks  of 
granite,  is  the  simple  but  beautiful  monument  erected  to 
the  Confederate  dead. 

Twining  about  it  and  clinging  lovingly  and  fondly  all 
over  this  huge  pile  of  unmortared  stone  is  the  beautiful 
Virginia  creeper,  so  sweetly  appropriate  and  always  pretty; 
its  luxuriant  and  graceful  foliage  supplemented  by  the 
handsome  trumpet  flower  produces  an  effect  that  has  yet 
to  be  equalled  by  the  most  skillful  sculptor  of  similar 
statuary. 

Right  by  this,  and  in  the  same  grave  with  those  of  his 
command  who  died  on  the  field  and  were  brought  back 
from  Gettysburg,  rests  the  body  of  General  George  E. 
Pickett.  It  was  his  request  that  he  be  buried  here  with 
his  comrades,  though  the  location  is  not  so  desirable  as 
others.  A  suitable  monument  may  in  time  be  erected  here. 

It  is  not  my  purpose  to  dwell  on  the  fact  that  the 
Southern  people,  though  they  went  from  war  to  devastated 


116  OK  THE  AVAR-PATH. 

homes  and  have  had  to  labor  and  toil  in  the  face  of  opposi- 
tion of  divers  kinds,  have,  notwithstanding  their  poverty 
and  hardship,  bravely  succeeded  in  rebuilding  their  homes 
and  country  without  government  aid;  and,  though  poor, 
yet,  as  compared  with  the  more  prosperous  North,  they 
have  erected  to  the  memory  of  their  General  Lee  a 
magnificent  monument,  while  General  Grant's  body  lies 
almost  neglected  in  the  city  where  his  successes  in  war 
made  the  people  roll  in  luxury  and  prosperity — rich  even 
to  surfeit,  in  everything  but  gratitude. 

We  might  linger  in  Eichmond  for  days  and  weeks. 

Trains  leave  for  Fredericksburg  at  6  p.  M.,  affording  a 
rest  and  delightful  ride  of  sixty  miles  in  the  pleasant  even- 
ing through  the  well-known  cavalry  fields  of  Hanover, 
Guinness  Station,  Bowling  Green  and  Ashland  ;  but  like 
the  cavalry,  we  will  dash  through  these  places  quickly  with 
the  train  and  make  our  next  stop  at  Fredericksburg. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

^REDERICKSBURG— what  a  cloud  of  war  mem 
ories  hangs  over  this  old  town  !  The  mere  men- 
tion of  the  name' awakens  the  veteran's  slumber- 
ing interests ;  like  the  pass- word,  it  clears  the  way,  and 
raises  the  flood-gate  through  which  rushes  down  upon  us 
such  a  stream  of  reminiscences,  that  we  are  almost  over- 
whelmed, and  in  despair  of  being  able  to  record  them  lay 
down  the  pen,  tempted  to  get  into  the  swim  and  float 
down,  like  the  other  chips,  through  the  whirlpools  of  time 
into  the  broad  ocean  of  oblivion. 

As  long  as  life  lasts  there  will  never  be  effaced  from 
the  tablets  of  my  heart  and  mind  a  single  event  connected 
with  Fredericksburg  during  the  war.  To  a  majority  of 
old  soldiers  of  both  armies  this  chapter,  dated  at  Freder- 
icksburg, may  be  like  a  letter  from  home,  written  by  one 
of  the  "  boys."  I  have  estimated  that  every  soldier  of  the 
Army  of  the  Potomac,  as  well  as  that  of  Lee's  Confederate 
Army  of  Northern  Virginia,  has  at  one  time  or  other,  been 
at  Fredericksburg. 

We  were  not  here  for  three  days  only,  as  at  Gettysburg, 
which  has  become  the  Mecca  of  American  valor  to  which 
tourists  throng  daily,  and  neglect  this  more  interesting 
field.  We  all  lived  here  for  a  couple  of  years,  every  day  of 
which  was  as  a  year  of  an  ordinary  lifetime.  It  was, 
indeed,  an  eventful  period  in  the  lives  of  all.  Who  will 
forget  the  first  pleasant  occupation  of  the  country  by 

117 


118  ON   THE    WAR-PATH. 

McDowell  in  the  summer  of  1862,  the  cavalry  raids  of 
Dahlgren,  the  return  of  Burnside  in  November,  1862,  the 
shelling  of  the  town  on  December  llth,  the  terrible  battle 
on  the  13th  of  December,  our  sad  Christmas  on  the  Rap- 
pahannock?  How  we  all  lived  over  the  river  on  those 
Stafford  Heights  during  the  whole  of  that  dreadful 
winter  of  1862-63 — the  severe  cavalry  picket  duty  on  the 
flanks,  the  mud  march  and  its  disappointments,  then  the 
Chancellorsville  campaign  during  the  leafy  month  of  May, 
after  which  we  moved  off  to  Gettysburg. 

General  Grant  again  conducted  the  Army  of  the  Potomac 
back  to  almost  within  gunshot  at  Spottsylvania,  the  Wilder- 
ness and  Mine  Run,  so  close  that  the  wounded  were 
brought  to  town.  The  ambulance  procession  is  said  to 
have  been  fifteen  miles  in  length,  reaching  to  Belle  Plain. 
I  mention  all  this  in  support  of  my  statement  that,  at  one 
time  or  another,  all  of  both  armies  were  here.  The  float- 
ing population,  aggregated  nearly  half  a  million  souls, 
and  perhaps  all  of  the  survivors  and  their  families  and 
their  friends  may  become  members  of  our  club  and  make 
this  visit  with  us. 

The  most  disastrous  battles  of  the  war,  perhaps,  that 
the  world  ever  saw,  were  fought  here,  and  here  repose  the 
remains  of  20,000  soldiers  who  died  at  the  front,  a  major- 
ity of  whom  were  slain  in  the  battle,  and  are  buried  on  the 
field,  yet  this  Fredericksburg,  a  beautiful  old  town  so  rich 
in  historical  memories,  and  but  an  hour  and  a  half  from 
Washington  City,  is  almost  forgotten  by  the  country,  by 
the  tourists  who  flock  to  Gettysburg,  and  Memorial  day 
here  is  remembered  only  by  a  few  Confederates  of  M.  F. 


ON    THE    \VAK-PATH.  119 

Maury's  camp  who  have  quietly  strewn  the  graves  of  Fed- 
eral and  Confederate  alike  with  the  flowers  contributed  by 
the  ladies  of  the  town. 

Some  statements  made  herein  will,  no  doubt,  be  dis- 
puted and  that  I  may  be  fortified,  have  collected  some 
figures,  that  I  record  herewith,  to  establish  the  position 
that  within  sound  of  cannon  in  Spottsylvania  county,  the 
greatest  battles  were  not  only  fought,  but  the  casualties 
aggregated  more  than  in  all  the  rest  of  the  war.  The 
greatest  heroism  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  was  on  these  fields 
displayed.  Probably  there  is  not  another  ten  miles  square 
on  the  entire  surface  of  the  earth  so  replete  with  history — 
ancient,  colonial,  revolutionary  as  well  as  rebellion  history — 
as  this. 

RECAPITULATION. 
Frederickaburg,  Dec.  13,  1862. 

Federal  killed,  1180— wounded,  9028— missing.  2145—12353— 
Confed.       "      579  3870  127—  4576—  16,929 

Chancellor sville,  May  1863. 

Federal  killed,  1512— wounded  9518— missing.  5000—16030— 
Confed.     "       1581  8700          "        2900—14181—  30,211 

Wilderness,  May  7,  1864. 

Federal  killed,  5597— wounded,  21463  missing,  10677—37737— 
Confed.      "     2000  "         6000       "  3400—11400—49,137 

Bloody  Angle,  Miy  S  to  ?l,  IS^.  Spottsylvania  O.  FT.  and 

Minor  Engagements. 

Federal  killed, 41 77— wounded,   19687— missing,  2577—26441— 
Confed.     "      1000  "  5000          "         3000—  9000—35,441 


This  is  not  all ;  but  these  four  battles,  make  a  grand  total  of  131,718 
divided  as  follows  :     Federal,  92,561;  Confederate,  39,157. 

Of  this  number  there  are  interred  in  the  Federal  cem- 
etery on  Marye's  Heights  15,273;  of  the  dead  who  died  at  the 
front  and  are  buried  on  the  field,  12,243  sleep  in  un- 
known graves.  Every  State,  every  regiment,  and  God  only 


120  ON  THE  WAR-PATH. 

knows  how  many  families,  may  be  mourning  a  son,  a  hus- 
band or  a  father,  who  sleeps  here,  among  the  "  unknown  " 
and  who  are  practically  forgotten.  Shamefully  neglected 
by  the  G.  A.  R.,  orators,  poets,  or  the  multitude  who  assem- 
ble at  Arlington  every  year. 

There  is  very  much  of  interest  about  Fredericksburg, 
besides  its  war  history.  Only  a  little  ways  over  on  the  penin- 
sula, lying  between  the  Bappahannock  and  the  Potomac 
rivers,  known  as  the  northern  neck  of  Virginia,  in 
"  Wes'molan,"  as  they  abbreviate  Westmoreland  county, 
George  Washington  was  born,  and  they  tell  me  the  stump  of 
the  cherry  tree  George  haggled  is  pointed  out  to  those  who 
visit  the  old  homestead.  I  have  seen  a  rusted  bit  of  iron  that 
a  Virginia  Yankee  tried  to  make  me  believe  was  the  genu- 
ine hatchet  used  by  George,  while  other  enterprising  coun- 
trymen offered  a  cane  cut  from  the  tree. 

Not  many  of  the  boys  who  lived  in  the  dug-outs  of  win- 
ter quarters  on  Stafford  Heights,  below  or  nearly  opposite 
Fredericksburg,  knew  that  the  Army  of  the  Potomac  was 
then  encamped  on  and  that  they  were  burning  the  fence- 
rails  from  the  original  farm  of  Mrs.  Washington,  the 
mother  of  him  who  was  first  in  war. 

At  the  point  where  the  center  pontoon  was  laid  by 
Burnside,  just  below  the  old  mill  leading  to  the  rocky 
road,  marks  also  the  spot  where  the  youthful  George  beat 
the  record  and  astonished  the  other  boys  by  his  ability  to 
throw  a  stone  clear  across  the  river. 

I  have  a  good  photograph  of  this  pontoon  landing, 
showing  the  old  mill,  the  wheels  of  whieh  still  go  'round 
and  'round,  and  the  mill-race,  through  which  I  proposed 
laying  my  sub-marine  cable,  runs  on  forever. 


ON  THE   WAR-PATH.  1 

No  soldier  who  crossed  this  pontoon  can  forget  it,  and 
they  will  recognize  the  old  mill  that  yet  stands  by  the 
destroyed  railroad  bridge.  The  rocky  road,  or  lovers'lane, 
leading  up  to  the  main  street  over  which  so  many  bleached 
and  trembling  souls  trod  that  day,  looks  precisely  as  of  old. 

Mrs.  Washington  lived  on  one  of  the  hill  streets  of  the 
town.  The  house  is  still  standing  in  a  fair  state  of  pres- 
ervation— nearly  as  she  left  it.  The  visitor  will  be  cheer- 
fully shown  through  the  rooms  in  which  she  lived  and 
where  she  died,  by  Miss  Moon,  the  pleasant  as  well  as  cul- 
tivated and  pretty  daughter  of  the  present  owners. 

It  will  be  remembered  that  Washington,  while  en  route 
to  the  capital  to  be  inaugurated  President,  visited  his 
mother  at  her  home  here.  The  garden  in  which  she  is 
described  as  meeting  him  so  indifferently — scarce  stopping 
her  planting  of  onions  to  greet  her  distinguished  son — is, 
at  the  present  time,  still  growing  onions  and  "  garden 
sass."  La  Fayette,  as  well  as  many  other  distinguished 
people,  visited  Mrs.  Washington  during  her  life-time. 

Mrs.  Washington  is  buried  on  the  outskirts  of  the  town. 
The  old  soldiers  will  all  recall  the  unfinished  monument. 
It  stands  yet,  precisely  as  it  did  during  the  war — a  crumbling 
shaft  that  has  marked,  for  years,  a  nation's  neglect  of  the 
grave  of  the  mother  of  the  father  of  his  country. 

There  is  a  prospect  that  through  the  recent  agitation 
of  this  shameful  neglect,  the  women  of  the  entire  land 
may  unite  in  the  movement  inaugurated  by  the  ladies  of 
Fredericksburg  to  redeem  not  only  the  grave,  but,  perhaps, 
the  home  of  Mrs.  Washington,  as  they  did  Mount  Vernon, 
the  tomb  and  home  of  the  son. 


122  ON    THE    WAR-PATH. 

I  always  spend  an  evening  out  there;  it's  a  pleasant 
walk  to  a  pleasant  spot,  and  I  love  to  sit  on  the  same  ledge 
of  rocks,  under  the  big  trees,  where  I  spent  so  many  happy 
hours  with  Geno. 

The  love  story  is  coming,  boys  and  girls,  but  we  will 
not  tell  it  at  this  tomb. 

Near  the  tomb  is  a  venerable  old  square  brick  building, 
known  as  "  Kenmore,"  built  nearly  150  years  ago  for 
Betty,  the  sister  of  Washington,  then  the  bride  of  Colonel 
Fielding  Lewis.  This  time-honored  house  is  now  the 
property  of  W.  Key  Howard,  Esq.,  a  courteous  gentleman 
who  will  conduct  us  through  the  house,  explaining  its 
interesting  history  and  describing  its  beautiful  ceiling  dec- 
orations. 

One  medallion  in  plaster,  over  a  mantle,  was  designed 
by  Washington,  and  it  evidences  fine  artistic  ability.  The 
lover  of  the  antique  may  find,  in  this  old  burg,  some  rich 
specimens  of  the  curious  and  unique,  in  both  design  and 
execution,  that  may  not  be  equalled  by  the  modern  imita- 
tor. There  are  huge,  if  not  massive,  hinges  and  locks  on 
the  old  oaken  doors  of  many  houses  here  that  would  delight 
the  connoisseur.  Door-knockers,  with  hangers  over  a  foot 
long,  are  quite  common.  The  study  in  old  roofs  and  cor- 
ners, or  gables,  would  interest  the  architects  who  build  the 
modern  Queen-Anne  houses.  Here  are  some  original  spec- 
imens of  genuine  Queen- Anne  architecture. 

There  is  an  absence  of  sameness  in  those  old  homes,  both 
in  exterior  and  in  their  inner  parts,  that  is  quite  a  relief 
to  those  who  have  had  the  modern  style  thrust  upon  them 
on  all  sides.  The  builders  of  these  old  colonial  homes  did 


ON    THE   WAR-PATH.  123 

t 

not  have  the  advantage  of  the  monthly  publication  on 
interior  decoration  and  artistic  furnishings.  Being  left  to 
their  own  ingenuity,  and  the  resources  of  a  blacksmith  or 
a  carpenter  shop,  they  were  obliged  to  work  out  their  own 
ideas,  and  they  have  certainly  produced  some  beautiful 
original  specimens  of  their  handiwork. 

"  Kenmore "  suffered  somewhat  from  the  shelling  by 
Burnside's  artillery,  there  being  the  scars  of  five  solid  shot 
on  the  wall  facing  the  Federal  army. 

The  main  street  of  the  town  is  below  or  under  the  hill, 
running  parallel  with  the  river.  At  the  upper  end  of  this 
street,  and  almost  opposite  to  the  Lacey  House,  is  a  story- 
and-a-half  log  building,  sheathed  with  weather  boarding, 
some  ancient-looking  dormer  windows  breaking  through  a 
good  big  roof  surface,  which  is  known  to  the  older  resi- 
dents as  the  Kising  Sun  Inn,  or  tavern.  Here  Washing- 
ton, Aaron  Burr  and  the  early  Virginia  gentlemen  were 
accustomed  to  gather  to  play  poker. 

Washington  was  a  very  methodical  man,  and  kept  a 
record  of  everything,  even  to  his  losses  in  card  playing. 
One  of  his  private  entries  reads:  "  Played  cards  at  Fred- 
ericksburg  and  lost,  as  I  always  do  at  that  place/' 

The  Masonic  fraternity  cherish  the  old  building  here 
as  the  early  home  of  their  lodge.  It  was  in  this  town  that 
Washington  was  made  a  Mason.  It  was  my  privilege  to 
have  examined  the  record  giving  the  date  and  entry,  and 
also  to  have  kissed  the  Bible  upon  which  he  was  obligated. 
Masonic  visitors  will  be  courteously  shown  through  the 
lodge  room  by  their  brethren,  of  whom  there  are  a  num- 
ber. The  furniture  is  hand-made,  being  brought  from 


124  ON   THE    WAR-PATH. 

Scotland  before  the  Revolutionary  period.  Col.  Rufus  B. 
Merchant,  a  gallant  Confederate  scout  who  is  now  propri- 
etor and  editor  of  the  Star,  of  Fredericksburg,  is,  with 
his  Masonic  brethren,  very  much  interested  in  the  build- 
ing of  a  memorial  temple  in  commemoration  of  this  event 
in  Masonic  history. 

St.  George's  Church,  the  steeple  of  which  our  artil- 
lerymen used  as  a  target  when  the  Confederate  signal 
officers  were  inside,  looks  as  natural  as  ever,  except  that 
the  three  great  holes  we  put  through  it  have  been  patched 
over.  In  the  almost  heavy  stillness  of  the  nights,  in 
these  years  of  peace,  when  I  hear  the  familiar  old  bell 
strike  the  hour,  I  think  of  the  nights  in  years  gone  by 
when  it  tolled,  in  the  same  way,  the  hours  to  hundreds  of 
thousands  of  sleeping  soldiers,  bivouacing  on  their  arms 
within  sound  of  its  tones;  and,  looking  now  at  the  electric 
lights  reflected  upon  its  white  surface,  its  tall  spire  point- 
ing to  the  sky,  it  seems  like  a  spectral  reminder  of  the 
sure  passing  of  time. 

A  few  days  since  some  workmen,  in  excavating  for  a 
foundation,  threw  up  a  twelve-pound  solid  shot  that  had 
buried  itself  three  feet  below  the  surface. 

Relics  are  quite  plentiful  and  genuine  here.  Perhaps 
the  largest  and  most  interesting  collection  of  war  relics  to 
be  found  anywhere  in  the  country  may  be  seen  here  in  the 
Museum  of  the  Exchange  Hotel.  A  courteous  young  gen- 
tleman, Mr.  W.  A.  Hill,  is  the  proprietor  and  owner. 
The  tourist  and  visitor  is  referred  to  my  friend  Mr.  Hill 
as  being  a  most  competent  guide,  as  well  as  an  agreeable 
young  man,  whom  everybody  is  glad  to  have  met. 


ON   THE   WAR-PATH.  125 

The  visitor  to  Fredericksburg  will  find  listed  among  the 
many  points  of  interest,  in  addition  to  the  battle-fields, 
some  of  the  residences  of  distinguished  people,  among 
these,  modestly  claiming  a  share  of  attention,  is  "The 
Wells  House,"  the  home  of  "Geno/'the  war  heroine  of 
the  "  Boy  Spy  "  narrative. 

Mr.  Hill  was  induced  to  place  this  on  his  published 
list  of  attractions  because  of  the  number  of  tourists  who 
stopped  off  to  visit  the  battle-fields  and  Mrs.  Washington's 
home  and  grave  inquired  of  him  "if  any  one  by  the 
name  of  Wells  lived  here?"  The  object  no  doubt 
being  to  gratify  curiosity  as  to  the  truthfulness  of  this 
.love  and  war  story.  Not  being  familiar  with  it,  himself,  he 
made  some  inquiries  of  the  older  citizens  in  regard  to  the 
Wells  family;  Mayor  Slaughter  observing  "  Oh  yes,  I  knew 
them  very  well — they  were  very  sweet  girls;"  a  number  of 
others  also  knowing  them;  the  interesting  family  of  my 
friend  Colonel  Merchant  lived  neighboring  them  during 
the  war. 

I  can  only  say,  briefly,  to  those  who  have  not  been 
interested  in  the  fortunes  of  the  Boy  and  his  war  girl,  that 
she  was  in  the  hands  of  the  Eebels  in  the  town,  while  he 
was  out.  in  the  cold  on  the  other  side  of  the  river  and  could 
only  see  the  roof  of  the  house  in  which  he  could  imagine 
they  were  all  having  a  good  time  with  the  Rebel  officers. 

I  arn  conducting  the  club  around  to  the  Wells  House — 
we  will  stand  together  upon  the  same  old  porch  from 
which  I  was  so  cruelly  taken  in  the  summer  of  1862,  to 
Old  Capitol  prison,  this  by  special  orders  of  the  Secretary 
of  War,  E.  M.  Stanton;  and  I  insist,  for  no  other  offense 


126  ON   THE    WAIM'ATlf. 

than  that  of  having  fallen  in  love  with  this  pretty  little 
black-eyed  girl.  I  couldn't  help  it.  She  was  sixteen  and 
I  was  twenty;  moreover,  she  was  a  beautiful  girl  and  wore 
short  skirts,  low-necked  dresses  and  in  her  well-formed 
bare  arms,  gracefully  held  a  guitar  while  she  skilfully 
played  the  accompaniment  and  sweetly  sang  that  old 
Spanish  serenade — Juanita — or  Wanita. 

I  invariably  ask  every  pretty  girl  with  whom  I  become 
acquainted  to  sing  Juanita. 

Though  over  a  quarter  of  a  century  has  elapsed,  I 
recall  every  incident  as  freshly  as  if  it  had  occurred  last 
week. 

The  scene  on  this  little  porch  where  I,  in  the  custody  of 
a  staff  officer,  bade  Mrs.  "Wells  and  Sue  good-bye,  while 
Geno, -trembling  with  suppressed  emotion,  timid  and  blush- 
ing, almost  afraid  to  trust  herself  to  say  farewell  in  the 
presence  of  the  group,  stood  by  the  door.  When  I  turned 
to  her  as  the  last  to  whom  I  should  give  a  parting  word, 
the  dear  little  girl  broke  down  completely,  covered  her 
face  with  her  handkerchief  to  hide  her  tears  and  embarrass- 
ment. 

I  took  the  handkerchief  from  her  face  and  put  it  in  my 
pocket  —  and  it  is  in  my  possession  yet  —  boldly  kissed 
her  and  said,  tremblingly,  sincerely  and  earnestly,  "As 
sure  as  I  live,  I  will  come  again  Geno."  It  was  the  turn- 
ing point  in  my  life  as  well  as  that  of  Geno's  and  some 
others,  every  one  of  whose  stories  from  that  date  would 
make  interesting  romances  in  real  life.  Their  terrible 
experiences  during  the  shelling — Miss  Sue's  flirtations  with 
the  Confederate  officers,  Miss  Mamie  running  the  block- 


ON   THE   WAR-PAtH.  12? 

ades  to  visit  her  father  then  a  prisoner  at  Ft.  McHenry, 
Baltimore,  the  attempts  of  a  handsome  staff  officer  of 
General  Barksdale's  Mississippi  brigade  to  capture  the 
affections  of  Geno,  the  family's  subsequent  sufferings  and 
privations,  will  indeed  make  a  romance  in  real  life  that  is 
truly  stranger  than,  fiction. 

As  I  have  said,  I  shall  never  be  able  to  do  the  subject 
justice  until  I  write  a  book  about  it — and  its  name  will  be 
"Geno." 

In  looking  up  the  whereabouts  of  some  of  the  Confed- 
erate officers  who  were  courting  my  girl  in  my  absence, 
taking  an  unfair  advantage  of  their  military  possession,  I 
learned  that  Mr.  Justice  Lamar,  being  a  Mississippi  Con- 
federate, would  be  able  to  give  me  the  desired  information. 
I  wrote  him  a  brief  note  explaining  my  wishes  and  ob- 
served that  I  knew  a  gentleman  of  his  standing  had  not 
much  time  or  inclination  to  bother  with  love  stories,  to 
which  he  replied,  in  his  courteous  and  kindly  manner: 

"It  does  not  bother  me  to  hear  about  a  love  story  of  the 
war,  provided  the  denouement  is  a  happy  one.  I  find 
myself  reading  them  whenever  I  have  an  opportunity  or 
the  labors  and  requirements  of  my  duties  will  permit,  and 
I  fear  that  I  sometimes  play  truant  for  this  purpose.  I  am 
very  much  interested  in  s  Geno  '  already,"  and  he  told  me 
where  I  could  catch  the  fellow  in  Mississippi  that  made 
love  to  Geno. 

I  have  made  a  good  photograph  of  the  house,  copies  of 
which  I  should  be  glad  to  supply  to  any  one  who  may 
desire  them  The  porch  is  precisely  as  it  was  twenty- 
seven  years  ago.  On  these  steps  were  spent  some  of  the 


128  ON   THE    WAR- PATH. 

happiest  hours  of  my  life  ,  and,  by  the  way,  some  other  fel- 
lows, North  and  South,  will  say  the  same  thing,  and  be  able 
to  recognize  the  familiar,  hospitable  and  once  happy  home 
of  the  truly  happy  Wells  family. 

The  attic  dormer  window  is  shown,  from  which  I  pro- 
posed to  conceal  myself,  under  Geno's  ^protection,  and  by 
the  use  of  the  telegraph  code,  as  applied  visually,  to  signal 
over  the  river  into  the  windows  of  the  Lacey  house,  which 
is  just  diagonally  opposite,  where  was  located  a  signal 
officer  with  a  glass  cautiously  bearing  on  me. 

For  my  own  gratification  and  to  convince  any  skeptical 
parties  that  the  plan  was  entirely  feasible,  we  might  open 
up- a  circuit,  going  myself  to  the  Lacey  house,  while  a  eig- 
nalist  companion  remains  on  this  side  to  whom  I  could 
communicate  by  the  wig-wag  system  using  simply  a  wand, 
a  handkerchief  or  a  fan,  as  fast  as  I  can  write  this  out,  in 
such  a  way  that  the  casual  observer  would  not  suspect  that 
a  system  of  scientific  signalling  was  being  conducted  before 
their  eyes. 

Therefore  it  is  not  only  possible  but  practicable  to 
signal  from  inside  an  enemy's  lines  to  your  own  lines 
without  detection — as  I  have  asserted. 

As  they  say  in  Virginia,  I  am  " tolerably"  familiar 
with  Fredericksburg,  and  "tbarfor"  able  to  "carry  you 
all  around"  and  point  out  the  many  places  of  historic 
interest.  I  frequently  run  down  "hyar"from  Washing- 
ton with  parties  of  old  friends  who  press  me  in  as  a  guide 
to  steer  them  around;  besides  this  good  excuse,  I  love  to 
spend  an  occasional  Sunday  on  my  own  account  walking 
around  its  romantic  and  historic  plains,  in  the  agreeable 


OX   THE    AVAR-PATH.  129 

company  of  some  pretty  little  girls,  that  were  born  and 
raised  here  since  the  war. 

There  seems  to  be  a  singular  attraction  still  lingering 
about  the  old  Wells  house  and  vicinity  aside  from  its 
delightful  associations. 

There  are  three  pretty  young  ladies  living  with  their 
parents  in  the  house,  not  only  pretty  but  accomplished 
and  agreeable.  The  visitor  who  may  be  curious  about  the 
truthfulness  of  its  history  will  be  politely  received  and 
entertained  by  them.  He  will  be  shown  the  scars  of 
the  great  battle,  left  in  its  walls.  During  the  terrific 
shelling  of  the  town  by  Burnside,  while  the  Wells  family 
lived  there  and  took  hasty  refuge  in  the  cellar,  three 
cannon  balls  passed  through  the  house,  and  one  twelve- 
pound  shot  lodged  inside.  This  identical  twelve-pounder 
may  be  seen  at  the  museum. 

The  sofa  on  which  I  had  so  often  sat  alongside  of 
Geno,  while  she  charmed  me  with  the  guitar,  and  "them" 
eyes,  was  knocked  all  to  pieces  by  a  shell  that  tore  through 
the  parlor. 

Unfortunately  the  handsome  Rebel  officer  \vas  not  at 
that  moment  sitting  there.  The  battery  that  fired  it  was 
commanded  by  a  Captain  Kirby,  no  relative  or  friend  of 
mine,  however.  One  of  the  ladies  who  is  a  phenomenal 
player  on  the  piano  and  the  organist  in  the  church  of  the 
town,  is  always  pleased  to  gratify  the  visitor  by  playing  or 
accompanying  her  younger  sisters,  who  sing  charmingly 
the  old  songs  we  used  to  sing  in  that  parlor  long,  long  years 
ago.  Not  only  "  Juanita,"  but  other  old  favorites:  "  My 
lost  Evangeline,"  "In  the  Gloaming,"  "Ever  of  Thqe," 


130  ON*  THE  WAR-PATH. 

"  Her  Bright  smile  haunts  me  still,"  "Annie  Laurie,''  ami 
"  Tired,  oh  yes,  so  tired,  dear,"  or  "Abide  With  Me/'  I 
am  very  fond  of  music,  and  to  my  old-fashioned  taste  the 
new  is  not  so  sweet  as  the  old,  especially  when  heard  in 
this  Wells  house. 

There  are  a  number  of  pretty  little  female  Rebels  in 
Fredericksburg,  which  is  famous  for  the  beauty  of  its 
women  and  the  hospitality  of  its  men,  and  it  preserves,  to  a 
remarkable  degree,  its  distinctive  old-time  traditions. 

I  love  to  listen  to  the  mild  voices  and  sweet  accent 
of  the  Southern  ladies — even  if  they  have  sometimes  a 
mighty  decidedly  Southern  inflection. 

I  have  visited  Fredericksburg  so  often  in  recent  years 
that  I've  become  a  rather  familiar  figure  on  the  streets, 
being  always  pleasantly  greeted  as  "the  Majah." 

A  sweet  little  girl  of  thirteen  or  fourteen  years,  who 
had  been  charmingly  entertaining  me  with  her  music  in 
her  home  parlor  one  evening,  was  asked  the  name  of  the 
piece  she  had  been  playing.  Replying  in  her  fast  talking 
way,  and  in  accents  sweet  and  mild,  it  sounded  tome  like 
one  word:  "  Dawncingonthbawnflo."  I  laughed,  and 
attempted  to  tease  her  by  commenting  on  the  big  name  for 
so  pretty  a  piece  of  music,  when  she  swung  herself  around 
on  the  piano  stool,  her  black  eyes  flashing  at  me,  as  she 
stammered  out  of  her  puckered  lips,  to  my  companion, 
more  deliberately,  "  The  Majah  thinks  he  knows  so  moch!" 
Ever  since,  when  my  friend  feels  inclined  to  differ  from 
me  on  any  subject,  he  repeats  the  expression  with  such 
effective  accentuation  that  it  has  become  quite  familiar 
among  our  acquaintances. 


ON   THE   WAR-PATS.  131 

But  we  shall  have  to  tear  ourselves  away  from  the 
attractions  of  the  town,  and  carry  our  war  club  to*fche 
battle-fields  on  the  outskirts. 

As  the  "  Majah  don't  know  so  moch"  about  the  battle 
of  Franklin,  on  the  left,  we  will  take  along  with  us,  as  a 
guide,  a  courteous  Confederate,  who  was,  during  the  bat- 
tle, a  soldier  of  Stonewall  Jackson's  line,  and  can  tell,  from 
his  point  of  view,  something  new  on  this  old  story.  I  sug- 
gest that  any  visitor  to  the  town,  who  may  need  a  guide, 
will  confer  with  this  gentleman,  Capt.  Lai  Taliaferro,  late 
of  the  47th  Virginia  Infantry,  now  Post-master  for  the 
Republican  administration  ;  or  his  brother,  Captain  John. 
The  family  is  well  known  in  the  State,  having  resided  in 
the  vicinity  almost  from  time  immemorial,  and  the  state- 
ment of  either  of  these  gentlemen  may  be  relied  upon.  A 
rig  may  be  had  from  Col.  Tom  Ilhyden  or  Mr.  Wheeler, 
for  probably  one-half  that  charged  for  livery  at  Washington 
or  Gettysburg. 

It  is  some  three  or  four  miles  to  our  left,  or  to  the 
Bernard  House  or  Franklin  headquarters  where  the  lower 
pontoons  were  laid.  Driving  down  the  river  road,  we  cross 
Hazel  Run,  well  described  in  official  reports  of  the  day. 
The  residence  of  Mr.  Slaughter,  on  Hazel  Hill,  known  as 
the  Slaughter  House,  was  occupied  as  the  headquarters  of 
Getty  and  Hawkins. 

At  this  lower  field,  on  the  left  of  our  lines,  the  range  of 
hills  on  which  were  entrenched  the  Confederate  forces  of 
Stonewall  Jackson,  are  some  distance  further  back  from 
the  river  than  are  the  same  hills  nearest  the  town. 

This  is  not  intended  to  be  a  description  of  the  battle 


132  ON   THE    WAR-PATH. 

at  all.  Let  it  be  simply  understood  that  a  broad,  level 
plain,  used  as  extensive  fields  or  meadows  of  the  farm, 
say  nearly  a  mile  in  width,  lay  between  the  river  and  the 
range  of  hills.  Over  this  open  plain,  the  troops  of  Frank- 
lin, with  a  river  in  their  rear,  had  to  advance,  under  fire, 
without  any  of  that  protection  afforded  the  right  wing  in 
their  advance  by  the  shelter  of  the  houses  of  the  town. 
There  was  not  only  a  direct  artillery  fire  from  batteries 
occupying  the  hills  in  their  front,  but  the  advancing  Fed- 
erals were  enfiladed  by  Pelham's  Confederate  artillery 
located  on  the  plain  some  distance  below. 

Running  through  a  little  break  in  the  range  of  hills  is 
a  small  swampy  stream  that  had  cut  for  itself,  in  the  year 
of  peace  and  plenty,  a  little  ravine  or  gully,  leading  down 
through  the  open  fields^to  the  river.  Along  this  little 
swampy  depression  in  the  broad  level  a  few  trees  and  some 
undergrowth  had  been  permitted  to  grow. 

This  scene  is  in  the  depth  of  winter:  There  are  no  leaves 
on  the  trees,  or  brush  to  aid  in  covering  that  noble  divis- 
ion of  Pennsylvania  reserve  troops  commanded  by  Meade, 
that  advanced,  almost  alone,  despite  the  artillery  fire,  over 
this  frozen  ground,  not  only  to  the  base  of  the  hills  on 
which  were  Jackson's  troops,  lut  they  went  on  through  the 
break  in  the  hills. 

They  drove  before  them  the  enemy  and  in  their  advance 
passed  their  two  lines  of  stacked  muskets.  The  story  is 
soon  told.  This  division  not  only  broke  the  "  Stonewall," 
but  they  advanced  six  hundred  yards  beyond  it. 

Why  didn't  they  stay?  Ah,  yes,  echo  answers,  why? 
It  is  not  the  purpose  of  this  club  to  attempt  to  discuss  this 


ON   THE    WAR-PATH.  133 

question.  Gen.  "W.  B.  Franklin,  one  of  Gen.  McClellan's 
trusted  lieutenants,  was  in  supreme  command  of  the 
left.  He  has  furnished  an  official  report  to  the  Govern- 
ment of  his  reason  for  not  supporting  their  advance,  and 
has  given  the  public,  through  the  Century  Magazine,  a 
further  explanation  of  this  failure.  Those  of  us  who  were 
not  of  the  military  rings  are  apt  to  wonder  why  this  twin 
lieutenant  of  McClellan's  was  not  dealt  with  as  was  Fitz- 
John  Porter,  who  was,  perhaps,  able  to  give  just  as  good 
reasons  for  his  failure  to  support  at  Second  Bull  Run. 

That  a  general  movement  in  support  would  have  been 
successful  is  conceded  by  the  Confederates.  If  this  had 
been  accomplished,  Lee  would  have  been  turned  out  of  his 
strong  position  at  Marye's  Heights,  and  that  terrible 
slaughter  then  have  been  avoided.  But  this  is  not  an 
attempt  at  a  military  criticism.  I  offer  the  testimony 
simply  of  reliable  Confederates,  that  each  may  form  his 
own  conclusions. 

"When  you  all  advanced  thar" — says  Capt.  Taliferro 
— "  I  declaw,  Majah,  I  never  saw  anything  so  beautiful  in 
all  my  life.  General  Jackson  wanted  a  gun  located  on 
that  little  knoll  down  thar  on  the  lower  side  of  the  rail- 
road just  whar  that  little  cut  is — wall,  sah,  I  was  sent  out 
thar  to  support  it,  and  I  pledge  you  my  word  and  honor  I 
never  was  so  glad  to  get  a  relief  from  any  place  in  all  the 
wah  as  I  was  to  get  out  of  that.  My  regiment  was  on  the 
hill  supporting  the  artillery,  and  when  you  all  advanced 
up  that  ravine  we  never  thought  you  all  would  keep 
going  ahead  through  that  swampy  place,  but  they  did  go 
on  sure  enough,  and  every  man  was  taken  aiuay  from  the 


134  ON   THE    AVAR-PATH. 

support  of  the  guns  in  front  to  y<>  lack  tliar  to  drive  you  out. 
Why,  I  heard  one  of  your  officers  say,  '  Give  'em  hell,  boys, 
we've  got  them  on  the  run — give  'em  hell.'  If  you  all  had 
come  up  to  support,  you  would  have  found  nothing  but 
the  artillery  in  your  front.  Yes  sir,  it's  a  truth  that  our 
•men  in  your  front,  on  both  sides,  were  turned  back,  as  it 
were,  in  a  sort  of  V  shape,  and  in  that  way  we  drove  you 
all  out.  I  was  right  hyar  when  you  all  came  back  over 
the  railroad,  and  I  never  shall  forget  an  officer  on  a  white 
hoss,  I  think  he  wore  a  black  beard,  who  rode  right  along 
here,  saying,  '  Rally  men,  rally  right  here  '  He  road  up 
and  down  two  or  three  times  saying  that.  It  was  a  brave 
man  who  ever  he  was,  and  when  a  gun  was  pointed  at  him, 
some  one  of  our  men  sang  out,  'don't,  don't  shoot  that 
man  ' — but  it  was  too  late,  a  volley  was  fired  and  his  horse 
plunged,  throwing  him  over.  I  did'nt  know  'till  after  the 
battle  that  the  officer  had  been  shot.  When  you  all  went 
back  we  found  him." 

Who  was  that  officer,  is  a  question  for  the  club.  My 
belief  is  that  it  was  Colonel  Feger  Jackson  of  the  Ninth 
Pennsylvania  Reserves.  Can  any  one  of  the  veteran  club- 
bers give  any  further  information  ? 

In  talking  on  this  subject  with  Rev.  Dr.  James  Power 
Smith,  the  popular  minister  of  the  Presbyterian  church  at 
Fredericksburg,  who  served  as  an  aid  on  Stonewall  Jack- 
son's staff  in  this  battle,  he  unhesitatingly  stated,  "Oh, 
yes  ;  that  came  very  near  being  successful  too." 

Conducting  me  in  the  most  courteous  way  into  the  cosy 
study  of  his  elegant  litle  stone  chapel  or  annex,  he  made  a 
diagram  showing  the  Confederate  positions. 


ON   THE    WAR-PATH.  135 

"  There  were  three  lines.  Ewell  was  on  the  front,  Early 
next,  and  I've  forgotten  who  the  reserve  were.  Your  forces 
got  through  two  of  these  lines,  as  the  swampy  point  was  not 
sufficiently  protected,  because  it  was  not  thought  possible 
for  a  successful  advance  to  be  made  there." 

I -had  heard  that  Gen.  Jackson  was  at  that  time  absent 
from  the  field  in  conference  with  Gen.  Lee,  but  Dr.  Smith 
was  of  the  opinion  that  Jackson  was  present  during  the 
engagement,  as  he  had  been  sent  out  by  him,  and  his  horse 
being  shot,  he  delayed  while  getting  a  remount  from  the 
artillery,  and  recalled,  making  this  explanation  to  his 
General- 

"The  General,"  said  Dr.  Smith,  "was  very  exacting, 
and  required  from  all  his  subordinates,  as  zealous  and  faith- 
ful service  as  he  was  willing  to  give  himself.  I  had  been 
going  all  day  and  was  anxious  to  get  some  rest,  but  the 
general  ordered  me  to  report  to  him,  and  directed  that  I 
should  convey  his  instructions  to  supply  ammunition,  and 
orders  to  relieve  or  change  the  line  before  the  moon  rose 
at  2  o'clock.  You  see,"  said  the  doctor,  with  a  laugh, 
"Jackson  consulted  the  almanac  in  his  military  move- 
ments. 

"After  the  battle,  when  your  men  came  over  to  bury 
the  dead,  Gen.  Gordon  got  on  a  stump  here  to  make  a 
speech  of  caution  to  those  of  our  men  who  were  to  assist 
in  this  work,  telling  them  not  to  do  any  talking  at  all,  lest 
something  might  be  brought  out  that  would  react  on  us. 

"  I  was  amused  at  a  big  Alabamian  singing  out  from  the 
ranks,  'Well,  Gin'ral,  can't  Ave  tell  them  we  whooped  'em 
yisterday?' 


13G  OX   'HIE    WAR-PATH. 

'•Before  the  laugh  had  died  off  entirely,  another  fellow 
blurted  out,  '  Can't  we  tell  'em,  Gin'ral,  that  we  can  do  it 
agin?' 

"  I  was  present  when  your  burial  detail  came  on  the 
ground,  though  General  Jackson  had  not  instructed  me  to 
do  so,  I  knew  he  was  anxious  to  hear  or  know  something 
of  his  brother-in-law,  Dr.  Junkin,  who  was  serving  as  a 
staff  officer  on  your  side,  and  1  hoped  to  find  him. 

"  It  was  while  waiting  for  this  opportunity  that  one  of 
your  staff  officers,  a  handsome  young  fellow,  elegantly 
dressed,  and  wearing  a  pair  of  fine  top  boots,  rode  up  to  one 
of  our  men  who  had  picked  up  a  gun  from  the  field,'  and 
ordered  him  to  throw  it  down — observing  to  me: 

"  'This  is  debatable  ground,  sir,  and  your  men  have  no 
right  to  take  those  arms  away.' 

"  The  Confederate  in  the  mean  while  eyeing  him  all  over, 
resting  his  admiring,  if  envious,  gaze  on  the  fine  boots, 
exclaimed  before  I  could  interfere: 

"'  Say,  Mister,  I'm  going  to  kill  you  to-rnorrow  when 
you  come  over  to- fight,  and  get  them  thar  boots.' 

"General  Jackson  was  one  of  the  strictest  of  discipli- 
narians in  our  army,  and  held  every  one  to  a  strict  accounta- 
bility, without  regard  to  his  rank.  General  Maxey  Gregg, 
an  old  man  and  an  officer  of  distinction,  had  in  some  way 
come  under  General  Jackson's  rod,  and  did  not  suffer  in 
silence  but  had  protested  earnestly  to  General  Lee. 

"  The  night  of  the  battle,  Jackson  was  told  that  General 
Gregg  was  dying.  He  mounted  his  horse  and  rode  some 
distance  to  the  rear  to  where  he  was  lying. 

"  The  dying  officer  was  overcome  at  the  sight  of  Jack- 


OX   THE   WAR-PATH.  137 

son,  and  began  at  once  to  offer  some  explanations,  when 
Jackson  interrupted  him  to  say:  'Never  mind,  never 
mind;  I  am  told,  General,  that  you  have  but  a  short  time  to 
live,  and  I  would  rather  you  would  give  your  attention  to 
other  matters.  May  I  not  pray  with  you ?'  and  he  knelt 
beside  him,  and  while  he  offered  this  benediction:  'Oh 
God,  our  Merciful  Father,  receive  into  thy  hands,  this 
departing  soul/  the  General's  life  ebbed  out. 

"  There  was  of  course  some  friction  occasionally  between 
our  officers.  EwelL  who  held  the  front  of  our  line,  com- 
manded what  was  known  and  what  he  was  rather  proud  to 
have  known  as  the  'Light  Brigade/  In  conveying  Jackson's 
instructions  to  old  General  Jubal  Early,  it  was  necessary 
to  mention  that  Swell's  Light  Brigade  would  be  in  .his 
front,  when  old  Early  turned  upon  me  with  an  oath  and 
said,  '  Tell  General  Jackson  that  celebrated  "Light  Bri- 
gade "  was  too  damned  light  to  keep  the  Yankees  from  get- 
ting in  on  me,  and  if  he  will  take  his  "Light  Brigade"  out 
of  my  way,  I  will  agree  to  hold  this  line  myself.'" 


CHAPTER  VII. 

JIE  old  veteran  of  the  old  Army  of  the  Potomac 
does  not  require  the  services  of  a  guide  on  these 
fields.  I  mean  by  the  old  army  veterans  those  who 
followed  its  earlier  leaders:  McDowell  on  the  plains  of  Man- 
assas,  McGlellan  on  the  Peninsula  and  at  Antietam  after 
the  Second  Bull  Run,  Burnsideat  Fredericksburg,  Hooker 
at  Chancellors ville  and  Meade  at  Gettysburg.  That  was 
an  army  of  American  gentlemen,  who,  without  thought 
of  mercenary  reward,  responded  to  the  first  call  of  Lincoln 
and  gallantly  marched  to  the  front,  and  whose  inborn 
loyalty  and  patriotism  kept  them  faithfully  in  the  front 
ranks  during  all  of  the  dark  days  in  the  early  years  of  the 
war:  when  the  hard  knocks  of  the  chivalry  and  best  blood 
of  the  South  were  directed  at  and  received  by  their  bared 
breasts.  We  were  often  whipped,  to  put  it  in  plain 
English;  that  is,  our  Generals  were  defeated  in  four-fifths 
of  the  engagements;  yet  the  gallant  boys  of  that  old  army 
got  upon  their  feet  after  every  knock-down  and  uncom- 
plainingly wiped -the  blood  from  their  faces.  Every  man 
squared  himself  for  another  bout  with  his  adversary.  I 
love  the  old  Army  of  the  Potomac — that  dear  old  Army  of 
the  Potomac — noble,  patient  and  long-suffering  old  Army 
of  the  Potomac — its  greatest  battles  were  fought  before 
Gen.  Grant  came  out  from  the  West  to  load  its  recruited 
forces  to  the  Wilderness,  Cold  Harbor  and  Appomat- 
tox.  Not  one  of  the  old  boys  who  survives  will  ever 

138 


ON  THE   WAR-PATH.  139 

forget  the  frugal  Thanksgiving  dinner  of  hard-tack  and 
coffee  on  those  dreary  plains,  nor  the  sad  Christmas  on 
the  Rappahannock — sad  not  only  to  them,  but  to  the 
thousands  of  homes  throughout  the  country  that  were 
placed  in  mourning,  and  hearts  of  mothers  made  to  bleed 
by  the  losses  sustained  here,  December  13th. 

It  is  interesting  to  note  the  different  phases  in  veteran 
human  nature  that  are  exhibited  by  those  who  revisit  these 
fields.  They  come  from  all  sections,  but  most  numerously 
from  New  England  and  the  Middle  States,  which  were 
principally  the  homes  of  the  Army  of  the  Potomac,  fre- 
quently in  large  excursion  parties,  their  wives  and  families 
or  friends  accompanying  them.  Sometimes  G.  A.  R.  delega- 
tions, wearing  the  old  blue  uniform,  the  ladies  and  children 
decorated  with  the  badges,  headed  by  a  band,  will  stir  the 
colored  inhabitants  by  a  parade  from  the  depot  along  the 
streets  of  the  sleepy  old  town.  Those  who  have  come  in 
contact  with  these  visitors  as  guides  or  drivers  of  convey- 
ances, say  they  can  always  tell  a  genuine  veteran.  An  old 
colored  driver  put  it  this  way: 

"Yaas,  sah,  dem  real  Yankees  what  war  here  in  de 
wah  don't  want  no  guide  buzzing  in  dar  ears.  Dey  done 
tole  me  to  talk  to  my  hosses  mor'n  onct;  and  one  old  man 
said  he'd  give  me  a  dollar  extra  if  I'd  button  up  my  lips; 
so  I  jis  keep  my  mouf  shut  and  open  my  years,  and  I  hear 
from  them  talkin'  mongst  demselves  all  bout  de  wah,  dat 
I  can  tell  to  others  dat  doant  know  nuffin  bout  it." 

The  gentlemen  at  the  hotel  say  those  whose  names  to 
their  register  are  familiar  are  usually  the  least  ostentatious 
guests. 


140  ON   THE   WAR-PATH. 

On  the  other  hand,  numerous  Q\<\-looking  men,  wearing 
the  uniform  and  budge  of  the  G.  A.  R.,  are  as  aggressive 
and  ready  to  fight  their  battles  over  again;  in  their  casual 
intercourse  with  the  ex-Confederates  who  may  meet  them, 
they  insist  upon  injecting  their  political  sentiments,  mixed 
with  war  opinions. 

If  this  class  are  sometimes  cornered  as  to  their  service, 
it  usually  proves  to  have  been  during  the  last  year  of  the 
war  as  a  reserve  or  home  guard;  and  if  the  regiment  is 
asked,  probably  the  answer  may  be  as  uncertain  as  that  of 
the  Irish  recruit,  who  belonged  to  the  "  bloody  99th  Ire- 
land, be  jabers." 

The  old  veteran  who  goes  off  alone,  or  accompanied, 
perhaps,  by  one  or  two  old  comrades,  makes  a  bee-line  for 
his  old  camp  on  Stafford  Heights;  but  the  chances  are  that 
he  can  not  find  the  location.  But  few  can  realize  what 
changes  may  be  wrought  in  the  surface  or  surroundings  of 
a  once-familiar  spot  by  the  growth  of  twenty-five  years. 
The  obliteration 'of  the  numerous  military  roads  and  fenc- 
ing-in  of  the  country  entirely  alters  the  topography  of  the 
old  camp. 

The  old  fellows  go  about  in  a  dazed  manner,  as  if  they 
had  lost  something  they  were  trying  to  find. 

They  are  all  sure,  however,  of  the  railroad  tracks  and 
embankments,  the  ruins  of  the  Phillips  House  and  the 
Lacey  House.  The  church  steeples  of  the  town,  the  old 
mill  and  the  contour  of  the  hills  back  of  the  town,  once 
burned  into  their  minds  and  hearts  by  a  brand  of  fire  and 
iron,  as  Marye's  Heights,  is  sadly  familiar.  The  old  boys 
gaze  long  at  this  scene;  perhaps  their  visions  are  not  now 


OK   THE   WAR-PATH.  141 

so  clear  as  when  they  were  younger,  and  maybe  their  sight 
is  dimmed  by  a  tear-drop,  as  with  a  sigh  they  walk  medita- 
tively to  the  upper  pontoon  anchorage  at  the  Lacey  House. 

No  one  ever  forgets  a  pontoon  bridge.' 

To  how  many  thousands  of  brave  hearts  does  it  remain 
in  memory  as  a  bridge  of  sighs,  a  home  on  one  side,  and  a 
prison  or  death  on  the  other.  Truly,  it  was  the  crossing 
of  the  river  of  death  to  the  many  who  never  returned,  and, 
I  may  add,  even  a  river  of  oblivion. 

Fredericksburg  is,  I  believe,  the  only  place  in  which 
pontoons  were  extensively  used  during  the  war.  I  do  not 
recall  any  other  place  where  the  armies  were  obliged  to 
cross  a  navigable  river  under  heavy  fire  to  fight  an  enemy 
entrenched  on  the  opposite  shore,  as  was  the  case  here. 

I  am  not  attempting  a  description  of  this  battle — only 
trying  to  tell  what  I  saw.  I  may  be  permitted  to  record  my 
opinion,  therefore,  based  from  actual  observation,  that 
more  heroic  service  tvas  never  exhibited  any  where  ih&n  that 
of  the  launching  and  building  of  these  pontoons  by  the 
brave  men  of  the  regular  and  volunteer  engineer  corps  of 
the  Army  of  the  Potomac. 

I  often  wonder  why  some  of  the  accomplished  engineer 
officers  do  not,  in  these  days  of  prolific  war  literature,  put 
in  form  the  heroic  work  of  their  corps  at  this  place. 

When  it  is  remembered  that  the  heavy  lumbering  boats 
were  hauled  to  the  water's  edge,  launched  and  anchored  by 
men  working  en  masse,  without  arms,  all  the  time  exposed 
to  a  deadly  fire  of  the  enemy's  sharpshooters  on  the 
opposite  shore  of  a  narrow  river,  wonder  grows  to  amaze- 
ment that  anything  at  all  could  be  accomplished. 


142  ON  THE  WAR-PATH. 

Yet  these  noble  boys  of  the  neglected  engineers  kept  to 
their  work  bravely,  the  deadly  fire  from  the  Rebels  not 
being  at  all  silenced  by  the  terrific  shelling  of  the  town. 

Right  here  I  will  record  another  remarkable  fact: 
Fredericksburg  was  the  only  town  of  importance  bombarded 
at  close  range.  Burnside's  entire  artillery  shelled  the  old 
place  for  hours,  yet  not  a  single  death  resulted  from  this 
hail  of  fire  and  shell. 

When  it  became  apparent  that  the  pontoons  could  not 
be  laid  in  the  face  of  the  incessant  fire  from  the  houses 
along  the  river  bank,  the  engineers  volunteered  to  row  their 
boats  to  the  opposite  shore  and  assist  in  charging  upon  this 
Mississippi  brigade. 

Volunteers  were  not  called  forth  first  as  the  official  reports 
indicate,  though  as  a  reinforcement  to  those  who  had 
originally  proposed  it,  others  were  called  out.  These  bravo 
boys — some  of  them  had  but  recently  left  their  college  at 
Easton,  Pennsylvania — were  ferried  over,  and  gallantly 
charged  upon  the  hornet's  nest  and  drove  the  Rebels  out. 

Then  the  pontoons  were  laid  and  the  army  started  to 
cross  on  a  bridge,  every  plank  of  which  represented  a  dead 
hero. 

There  is  no  monument  to  mark  this  spot  at  Fred- 
ericksburg, except  the  tree  to  which  one  side  was  anchored, 
where  as  much  daring  heroism  was  shown  as  at  any  of  the 
many  marked  places  at  Gettysburg.  But  the  boys  will 
never  forget  that  place.  I  can  hardly  keep  it  out  of  my 
mind.  I  made  a  good  sketch  of  the  location,  showing 
both  shores,  that  I  should  like  to  show  to  the  club  in  a 
magic  lantern  or  stereopticon  view,  as  well  as  some  other 


GIST    THE   WAR- PATH.  143 

deeply  interesting  places  which  I  shot  from  my  camera. 
I'm  an  amateur  photograph  crank,  and  on  this  trip  had 
this  box  instead  of  the  gun  I  used  to  carry. 

Fredericksburg  is  debatable  ground.  Realizing  that  I 
may  be  treading  on  somebody's  toes  in  attempting  a 
description  of  the  battle,  I  will  shift  the  responsibility  on 
to  the  broad  shoulders  of  my  friend,  Col.  Carswell  McClel- 
lan,  who,  as  an  officer  in  Humphreys'  staff,  is  thoroughly 
competent  to  tell  the  truth  about  the  last  great  onslaught 
on  Marye's  Heights.  If  any  one  desires  to  fire  back  on 
this  question,  let  him  point  his  missiles  at  the  Colonel,  ad- 
dressed to  St.  Paul,  and  not  at  my  head. 

There  was  not  only  one  charge  at  this  battle  of  Freder- 
icksburg, but  a  series  of  charges,  during  all  of  that  fatal 
day,  any  one  of  which  equalled  in  heroism  that  of  Pickett 
at  Gettysburg. 

The  Irish  Brigade  .have  had  their  story  well  told,  though 
Couch's  and  Hancock's  are  known  only  by  the  official 
reports  and  the  Century  papers.  Colonel  McClellan  says 
of  the  last  charge: 

"On  the  morning  of  the  13th,  General  Humphreys' 3d 
Division  of  the  5th  Corps  was  massed  near  the  Phillips 
House,  where  General  Burnside  had  his  headquarters.  At 
half-past  two  P.  M.,  General  Humphrey,  who  had  been  in 
consultation  with  Burnside,  came  out,  with  an  expression 
of  intense  satisfaction.  He  told  me  that  Burnside  had 
informed  him  that  our  division  was  to  go  over  the  river  at 
once  to  act  as  the  reserve  of  the  assaulting  force,  and  he 
concluded  his  statement  with  the  emphatic  assertion  that 
when  we  were  sent  to  the  assault  we  must-  gain  the  crest. 


144  OK   THE   AVAR-PATH. 

He  directed  the  order  for  crossing  to  be  given,  with  a 
request  that  the  Brigade  Commanders  should  give  brief 
words  of  encouragement  to  their  men,  and  as  most  of  the 
troops  were  now  entering  upon  their  first  engagement, 
he  was  anxious  lest  their  spirits  should  be  depressed  by  the 
sight  of  the  wounded  who  were  being  brought  to  the  rear, 
and  that  he  should  have  that  terrible  stream  turned  aside 
while  his  command  was  advancing. 

"After  reaching  the  town  the  troops  moved  along  the 
elongation  of  the  telegraph  road  to  Hanover  street,  reached 
the  intersection,  when  Gen.  Humphreys  riding  forward 
along  his  column  found  Gen.  Hancock  alone,  apparently 
waiting  there  for  some  one.  Just  then  Gen.  Couch,  almost, 
if  not  entirely,  unattended,  rode  up,  inquiring  for  Griffin's 
Division.  It  was  evident  that  Gen.  Couch's  sympathetic 
nature  was  thoroughly  aroused  by  what  his  troops  had  been 
through  during  the  day.  He  stated  that  they  had  'gained 
the  Heights,'  but  were  out  of  ammunition  and  needed  sup- 
port. It  became  manifest  later  that  '  the  Heights'  lie 
referred  to  was  the  slight  rise  of  ground  below  Marye's 
Heights,  where  Gen.  Couch's  troops  lay.  Couch  not  find- 
ing the  support  he  expected,  was  exceedingly  solicitous, 
when  Gen.  Humphreys  said  to  him,  'I  am  ordered  into 
position  here,  as  you  see,  but  you  are  the  ranking  officer; 
and  if  you  will  give  me  an  order  to  do  so,  I  will  support  you 
at  once.'  The  order  was  given,  as  suggested,  and  guided  by 
Capt.  Mitchell  of  Hancock's  staff,  Humphrey  rode  out  to 
the  front,  closely  followed  by  Gen.  P.  H.  Allabach's  Brigade. 
At  the  foot  of  the  hill  General  Hooker  was  met,  who  con- 
firmed Couch's  order.  General  Humphreys  was  then 


ON   THE   WAR-PATH.  145 

informed  by  Hooker  that  Gen.  Burnside  desired  the  Heights 
carried  before  sundown,  and  that  lie,  Hooker,  expected 
Humphrey  to  accomplish  it.  Allabach  being  ordered  to 
form  his  brigade  in  two  lines,  Gen.  Humphreys  rode  out 
into  the  field  to  observe  the  ground  more  closely — return- 
ing to  his  troops  he  said:  'The  bayonet  is  the  only 
thing  that  will  do  any  good  here — tell  Allabach  so  and 
direct  him  to  see  that  all  muskets  are  unloaded.'  Col. 
Allabach,  a  sturdy  graduate  from  the  '  Bloody  Third' 
U.  S.  Infantry  of  the  Mexican  war,  rode  through  his  com- 
mand as  the  formation  was  being  completed,  and  had  the 
muskets  'rung'  to  prove  them  unloaded." 

Put  a  pin  in  that  point — they  were  ordered  to  charge 
and  unload  their  guns,  and  to  prove  it,  they  were  "rung" 
while  forming  under  fire.  "  With  his  brigade  formed,  the 
front  line  at  charge  bayonets  and  the  second  line  at  right 
shoulder  arms,  Allabach  reported  his  command,  ready  to 

move  forward.    As  the  bugle  sounded  the  *  charge,'  General 

• 

Humphrey  turned  to  his  staff,  and  bowing  with  uncovered 
head,  remarked  as  quietly  and  as  pleasantly  as  if  inviting 
them  to  be  seated  around  his  table,  '  Gentlemen,  I  shall 
lead  this  charge.  I  presume,  of  course,  you  will  wish  to 
ride  with  me.'" 

Now  compare  that  to  Picket t,  who  was  not  within  a 
mile  of  his  column  when  they  charged  at  Gettysburg — 
Pettigrew  and  Armistead,  led  Pickett's  Division  there.  Of 
this  grand  assault  of  Humphreys',  I  can  do  no  better  than 
quote  Gen.  Hooker's  report: 

"This  attack  was  made  with  a  spirit  and  determina- 
tion seldom,  if  ever,  equalled  in  war.      Seven  of  General 


14G  0>    THE    WAR-PATH. 

Humphreys'  stuff  officers  started  with  the  charge,  five 
were  dismounted  before  reaching  the  line  where  Gen. 
Couch's  troops  were  lying,  and  four  more  wounded  before 
the  assault  ceased/' 

Gen.  Humphreys  said  of  his  experience:  "The  troops 
I  was  to  support  were  sheltering  themselves  by  lying 
on  the  ground.  This  example  Col.  Allabach's  Brigade 
followed,  in  spite  of  an  effort  to  prevent  it.  The  men 
who  were  lying,  shouting  to  the  others,  'get  down,  don't 
get  up  there/ etc.  Only  a  part  of  his  men  were  able  to  reach 
the  front  rank,  owing  to  the  numbers  already  occupying 
the  ground.  I  cannot  refrain  from  expressing  the  opinion, 
that  the  greatest  obstacle  to  my  success  was  the  troops  that 
had  previously  charged  and  been  repulsed,  but  had  not  been 
withdrawn,  though  they  were  reported  out  of  ammunition — 
this  should  have  been  done  and  thus  left  me  a  clean  field — 
they  would  not  advance  with  us,  and  the  men  of  Allabach's 

Brigade,  who  had  never  before  been  in  battle,  instinctively 

• 

followed  their  example  and  lay  down.  The  troops  on  the 
right  and  left  of  us  would  have  prevented  the  enemy  from 
advancing.  Had  the  enemy  come  out  from  behind  the  stone 
wall,  we  should  .have  carried  the  positions." 

Here  it  must  be  observed,  in  comparison  with  Pickett's 
charge,  that  at  Gettysburg  all  things  were  equal  ;  there 
were  no  hills  and  heavy  stone  walls  and  sunken  roads,  their 
troops  advanced  and  were  met  bravely  by  our  own,  standing 
up  like  men,  and  repulsed  disastrously,  at  a  hand-to-hand 
combat;  while  at  ~Frc(\erickshnrgwenevcrsawa  Confederate 
from  behind  their  four  lines  of  muskets  concealed  by  stone 


ON  THE  WAR-PATH.  147 

walls  and  embankments.     We  saw  nothing  but  the  white 
smoke  from  their  guns. 

Our  troops  advanced  to  within  eighty  yards  of  them  and 
remained  there  till  night.  No  prisoners  were  taken  at 
Fredericksburg.  The  writer,  during  a  lull  in  the  firing 
from  the  stone-wall  ridge,  could  see  Gen.  Humphreys,  sit- 
ting quietly  and  alone,  viewing  the  ground  after  the  repulse. 
As  I  neared  him  a  peculiar  sound  was  heard  comingclearly 
and  distinctly  through  the  noise  of  the  intermitting  battle, 
and  as  I  approached  closer  the  notes  of  the  song  so  familiar 
in  those  days — "Gay  and  Happy" — died  from  his  lips. 
That  air  has  been  fixed  indelibly  in  my  mind. 

"  Eeturning  on  this  road/'  says  Col.  McClellan,  "I  met 
Gen.  Hooker  with  Gen.  Butterfield.  His  greeting  was, 
'  Give  my  compliments  to  Gen.  Humphreys,  and  tell  him 
he  is  doing  nobly — nobly.  "' 

Gen.  Humphreys  was  at  the  front  to  personally  expedite 
the  formation  of  i\\e  first  brigade  for  another  charge.  Gen. 
Butterfield  had  given  the  order  that  the  Heights  must  be 
carried  before  dark. 

Again  Humphreys  rode  at  the  head  of  his  troops, 
joining  with  the  movement  on  foot  until  the  charge  had 
passed  the  Irick  house,  and  the  column  was  being  crowded 
over  to  the  right.  As  the  brigade  reached  the  mass  of 
men  lying  there,  every  effort  was  made  by  the  latter  to  pre- 
vent our  advance.  They  called  to  our  men  not  to  go  for- 
ward, and  some  attempted  by  force  to  prevent  their  doing 
so.  The  effect  on  Humphreys'  line  was  to  disorder  them; 
but  they  were  reformed  into  a  column  and  again  advanced. 

The  moral  of  this  rather  old  story  under  new  light  is 


148  ON"  THE    WAR- PATH. 

this.  Humphreys' Division  would  have  gone  right  on  to 
the  stone  wall,  though  all  might  have  been  slaughtered,  but 
for  the  impediment  of  our  own  line  lying  on  the  ground. 

As  it  was,  Humphreys'  Division  of  the  olh  Corps  must 
be  accorded  the  honor  of  having  gotten  ncarcxt  the  stone 
wall. 

These  statements  are  submitted  not  with  any  view  of 
detracting  from  the  glory  and  honor  of  the  others,  but 
simply  as  truths  that  may  be  recorded  by  living  witnesses 
for  the  benefit  of  those  who  may  come  after  us. 

Perhaps  in  the  future  ages  one  stone  may  be  erected  on 
this  historic  ground  to  mark  the  point  of  the  farthest 
advance  of  the  Union  line.  It  ought  to  be  an  equestrian 
statue  to  Andrew  Atkinson  Humphreys. 

It  was  written  of  General  Humphreys  at  the  time  that 
Fredericksburg  had  "developed  a  quiet,  courteous  and 
accomplished  man  of  science  into  a  splendid  field-general  of 
the  most  vigorous  mien  and  distinguished  bravery."  And  yet 
there  was  far  more  of  demonstration  than  development  in 
the  magnificent  effort  of  that  man  of  science.  The  duty 
laid  upon  him  there  brought  clearly  to  the  light  the  mag- 
netic leadership  which  was  as  natural  to  him  as  his  breath 
and  subsequently  proved  that  he  could  serve  as  well,  or  as 
loyally,  as  he  could  lead.  It  is  not  to  be  supposed  that 
General  Humphreys  was  blind  to  the  fearful  errors  of  that 
fatal  field.  He  "  knew  his  duty  and  obeyed  his  orders  " 
with  an  imperturbable  courage  and  consummate  ability  and 
zeal  that  would,  if  possible,  wrest  success  from  the  most 
hopeless  task. 

Does  any  one  ever  think  that  the  charge  of   Pickett 


ON"  THE   WAR-PATH.  149 

was  the  only  one  ever  made  by  the  Confederates?  Of  course 
they  have  made  advances,  but  this  final-charge  of  Pickett, 
preceded  and  attended,  as  it  was,  by  peculiarly  dramatic 
surroundings,  was  their  only  grand  charge  of  all  the  war, 
and  probably  for  this  reason  it  has  furnished  a  subject  for 
more  speeches,  historical  essays,  paintings  and  poems 
than  any  other  event  which  ever  occurred  in  America. 
Yet  either  one  of  the  gallant  charges  made  on  an  impreg- 
nable position,  where  everything  was  against  us,  as  at 
Marye's  Heights,  excels,  in  every  particular,  this  much 
vaunted  fire-works  exhibition  at  the  close  of  the  great  battle 
of  Gettysburg.  I  am  not  personally  fond  of  talking  on  war 
subjects — in  fact,  at  the  close  of  the  war  I  was  so  sick  of 
it  that  I  made  a  vow  never  to  refer  to  that  experience,  and 
I  have  kept  my  word — except  at  long  intervals — ever  since. 
I  considered  it  a  most  gratifying  compliment  to  have  an  old 
friend  say  of  my  war  story: 

"  Oh,  that's  all  imagination — he  was  not  in  the  war  at 
all — I've  known  him  for  years,  almost  intimately,  and  his 
best  friends  say  they  never  heard  him  talk  about  the  war 
at  all." 

Though  I'm  a  Pennsylvanian  and  proud  of  Gettysburg, 
yet  this  Virginia  ''burg"  has  a  greater  fascination  for  me 
than  our  Pennsylvania  "burg."  lam  glad  to  be  able  to 
record  the  fact  here  that  the  Pennsylvania  Reserves  made 
the^rs^  charge  and  broke  ' '  Stonewall "  Jackson's  line,  but 
the  Pennsylvania  general,  Franklin,  failed  to  support  them, 
and  it  was  lost.  It  was  a  division  of  Pennsylvanians 
under  Humphreys  who  made  this  last  final  onslaught, 
and  it  was  Pennsylvanians  and  Pennsylvania  generals, 


150  ON   THE   AVAR- PATH. 

Hancock  and  Meade,  who  received  Pickett's  charge  in  the 
Pennsylvania  town  of  Gettysburg. 

To  properly  fortify  the  statements  regarding  this  debated 
ground,  I  here  have  attempted  to  outline  what  may  be 
termed  an  official  report  in  giving  the  views  of  the  officers. 
Permit  a  newspaper  scout  to  record  some  personal  im- 
pressions of  the  scene.  I  have  some  splendid  views  show- 
ing the  Rebel  position,  that  I  should  like  to  throw  upon 
the  scene  before  the  eyes  of  the  club  while  I  deliver  this 
lecture. 

The  Confederate  artillery  was  stationed  along  the 
crest  of  the  hill;  below  them  to  the  front  were  four  lines 
of  their  infantry,  securely  entrenched  behind  stone  walls 
on  each  side  of  the  sunken  road,  forming  a  glacis,  along 
which  our  troops  had  to  charge,  against  guns  four-ranks 
deep  levelled  at  them. 

Against  this  naturally  magnificently  defensible  position, 
strong  as  Sebastopol  and  more  dangerous  to  an  attacking 
force,  on  account  of  the  river  in  the  rear,  our  troops  were 
hurled,  not  once,  but  time  and  again,  during  all  that 
dreadful  day.  French's  and  Sturgis'  Divisions  led,  and  held 
their  ground  right  under  the  muzzles  of  the  heavy  Con- 
federate batteries;  then  Hancock's,  and  then  Howard's 
Divisions  each  charged  more  savagely  than  its  predecessor, 
all  holding  their  ground  in  front  as  long  as  their  ammuni- 
tion lasted. 

The  sun  had  set  behind  the  Rebels' position,  the  crim- 
son-edged clouds  of  a  winter's  sunset  gleamed  luridly 
through  masses  of  smoke  which  at  times  almost  obscured 
the  placid  sky.  so  peaceful  in  its  quiet  evening  tints  and  so 


ON  THE  WAR-PATH.  151 

suggestive  of  the  cessation  of  the  day's  labors.  Not  for 
the  long-suffering  Army  of  the  Potomac  did  it  indicate 
repose. 

The  Rebel  fire  breaks  out  with  more  ferocity  than 
ever,  sweeping  across  the  field  at  the  advancing  divisions 
of  General  Humphreys.  Onward,  with  a  forlorn  hope,  they 
advance,  the  ground  encumbered  by  the  countless  bodies 
of  the  fallen  comrades;  knapsacks,  blankets,  guns,  haver- 
sacks, canteens,  cartridge  boxes,  etc.,  strewed  all  over  the 
plain;  shot,  shell  and  canister,  shrapnell  and  grape  are 
hurled  as  they  approach  by  columns  of  regiments  led  by 
their  officers,  and  without  firing  a  shot  the  noble  band 
continues  on.  General  Humphreys  dashing  ahead  to  a 
swell  rise  in  the  ground,  takes  off  his  hat  to  cheer  on  his 
men;  -with  reckless  ardor  his  men,  rapidly  closing  in  on 
their  gallant  leader  on  the  double-quick,  answer  cheer 
with  cheers,  Humphreys  having  two  horses  shot  under 
him  and  his  staff  nearly  all  dismounted.  Here  were 
encountered  the  troops  lying  on  the  ground  who  had 
been  holding  their  positions  with  the  bayonet,  being 
out  of  ammunition.  They  oppose  the  advance  of  their 
comrades,  and  use  force  to  prevent  the  passage  of  the 
Division  over  their  prostrate  lines,  thereby  throwing  the 
advancing  column  into  confusion — a  confusion  which  may 
have  prevented  this  last  effort  of  the  army  from  being  suc- 
cessful; for  through  the  smoke  the  Eebels  were  seen  to  be 
in  great  confusion. 

Humphreys'  Division  had  never  been  under  fire,  and 
would,  undoubtedly,  have  gone  to  the  wall  but  for  this 
impediment.  Military  history  teems  with  instances  proving 


152  ON   THE   WAR-PATH. 

that,  when  receiving  its  battle  baptism,  a  command 
composed  of  such  material  as  this  seldom  fails  to  deliver 
home  a  charge  that  is  properly  led,  provided  no  obstacle 
other  than  the  fire  encountered  distracts  its  attention  from 
its  objective  and  from  its  leader.  But  before  that  awful 
sheet  of  flame  from  the  stone  wall  were  enveloped  the  heads 
and  flanks  of  the  column.  In  front  of  that  terrific  hurri- 
cane of  bullets  no  heroism  could  avail.  The  very  hillside 
appeared  to  vomit  forth  fire,  which,  with  its  glare  flash- 
ing through  the  fast  .thickening  obscurity,  pours  upon 
the  storming  columns  till,  being  unable  to  stand  against 
it  longer,  though  within  ciyldy  yards  of  Hie  wall,  the 
brave  remnant  singing  in  the  abandonment  of  its  courage, 
falls  back  in  good  order,  leaving  seven  hundred  of  their 
comrades  lying  helpless  upon  the  field. 

The  people  of  the  South  generally,  and  especially  the 
ladies  of  the  present  new  South,  as  well  as  the  mothers 
of  the  old,  do  the  Northern  people  and  their  own  children 
great  injustice  in  clinging  to  their  prejudices  against  the 
personnel  of  the  Federal  army,  and  by  persistently  teach- 
ing their  children  that  the  motive  of  the  Northern  soldier 
was  not  inspired  by  patriotism,  but  was  prompted  by  the 
Avish  to  devastate  their  homes  and  rob  them  for  mercenary 
gain.  Only  a  few  days  ago,  in  the  presence  of  some  Fred- 
ericksburg  ladies,  my  face  was  blanched  by  one  of  the 
company  observing  flippantly,  "  The  Yankees  were  simply 
hirelings  and  foreigners  sent  here  for  pay.  They  were  not 
brave  men  like  our  Southern  boys.  Why/'  said  she,  turn- 
ing to  me,  "  if  a  few  of  our  men  were  to  pick  up  guns  I 
reckon  you  all  would  run  again." 


ON"  THE  WAK-PATH.  153 

I  could  only  remind  her  that  the  "poor  white  trash" 
•  of  the  South  were  merely  slaves  or  their  white  serfs,  who 
were  conscripted  into  their  army  and  heartlessly  driven  to 
their  deaths  by  their  leaders,  who,  if  they  had  been  suc- 
cessful, would  have  continued  to  fight  amongst  themselves, 
and  treat  their  masses  as  "mud  sills/' of  which  she  might 
have  been  one  but  for  the  "  hirelings." 

Some  of  the  purest  and  noblest  blood  of  the  Anglo-Saxon 
was  spilled  upon  the  plains  before  Marye's  Heights  as  a  free 
sacrifice  upon  the  altar  of  liberty.  At  last  night  came  and 
ended  the  struggle;  the  great  God  of  Battles  and  Com- 
mander-in-Chief  of  all  gave  the  signal  to  cease  firing  by 
covering  the  Earth  with  darkness.  The  mantle  of  twilight, 
pinned  by  the  evening  star,  was  dropped  upon  the  terrible 
scenes.  An  aurora  lorealis  in  the  Northern  sky  soon 
lighted  up  the  scene  with  its  lurid  gleams  in  a  manner 
never  to  be  forgotten.  The  horrors  of  that  night,  the 
scenes  of  despair  and  gradual  death  upon  that  bloody 
ground,  in  the  bitter  cold  darkness,  can  not  be  described. 
There  was  no  help  for  the  dying.  Oh,  women  of  the 
South,  reflect !  There  were  brave  men  lying  on  your  soil 
dying  unattended,  with  little  children  dependent  upon 
them,  who,  perhaps,  were  kneeling  besides  a  mother's  knee, 
saying  their  good-night  prayers  with  a  "  God  bless  papa." 
There  were  men  there  whose  wives  trembled  for  them; 
men  who  had  been  little  children,  and  whose  mothers 
would  have  feared  to  have  a  cold  wind  blow  upon  them. 
There. they  lay  on  the  frozen  ground;  affection  of  no  avail; 
not  for  them  the  soothing  touch,  the  warm  chamber,  and 
ihe  thousand  nameless  attentions  of  loving  hands. 


154  ON   THE   WAR-PATH. 

"Wearily,  and  with  faint  hope  for  the  morrow,  dying, 
they  must  stay;  their  noble  efforts  idly  wasted  in  a  fruit- 
less struggle;  but  they  did  not  die  in  vain — in  the  end  they 
were  successful.  Some  of  their  bones  rest  in  unknown 
graves  to-day  upon  the  crest  of  Marye's  Heights  they 
charged  upon  in  vain,  and  they  now  sleep  under  the  pro- 
tecting folds  of  the  flag  that  floats  over  the  National 
cemetery  there. 

As  illustrating  the  types  of  American  manhood  of 
which  the  soldiers  who  bravely  charged  upon  that  fatal  day 
were,  I  mention  a  group  of  half  a  dozen  who  recently 
revisited  this  ground,  along  with  whom  I  had  the  pleasure 
of  spending  a  couple  of  delightful  days:  Senator  M.  S. 
Quay  was  in  the  line  of  battle;  Captain  Wm.  R.  Jones, 
well  known  as  the  general  manager  of  the  extensive  Edgar 
Thompson  Steel  Company,  whose  abilities  may  be  expressed 
most  forcibly  by  his  salary  of  $40,000  per  year,  was  "only  a 
private"  in  the  133d  Pennsylvania  Volunteers — Humphreys' 
Division  of  this  charge;  Col.  Gray,  ex-sheriff  of  Allegheny 
county,  Pennsylvania;  Judge  E.  A.  Monbooth,  of  Pittsburg, 
a  probable  governor  for  the  State,  was  an  adjutant  here; 
Mr.  McKenna,  of  Pittsburg,  a  well  known  attorney;  Col. 
Edward  Jay  Allen,  who  commanded  the  155th  Pennsyl- 
vania in  the  charge;  Gen.  P.  H.  Allabaugh,  our  handsome 
veteran,  who  may  be  seen  any  day  at  the  rotunda  of  the 
Capitol  in  Washington ;  Capt.  H.  H.  Humphreys,  15th 
Infantry,  U.  S.  A.,  a  son  of  the  General. 

I  might  add  a  great  many  names  of  men  now  prominent 
in  the  professions  and  successful  in  business  circles  or 
managing  great  corporations,  who  were  of  the  "private 


Otf  THE  WAR-PATH.  155 

hirelings"  that  survived  this  battle,  and  whose  best  efforts 
since  the  war  have  been  devoted  to  the  development  of  the 
entire  country,  North  and  South. 

Captain  Jones,  a  jolly,  companionable  man,  made  the 
trip  quite  enjoyable  through  his  quaint  and  original  stories 
of  the  battle. 

I  walked  at  his  side  over  the  entire  field,  and,  as  he  is 
now  dead,  I  will  try  to  put  on  record  his  observations,  in 
his  own  words  or  as  nearly  as  may  be. 

Captain  Jones  was  one  of  those  who  find  something 
humorous  in  even  sad  scenes.  Pointing  to  a  fence  along  side 
the  road,  he  remarked : 

"You  see  that  panel  of  fence?  That's  where  I  lay  down 
that  evening  after  the  charge  was  over.  I  saw  a  couple  of 
other  fellers  lying  there  who  didn't  seem  to  be  at  all  disturbed 
by  the  infernal  racket  that  was  going  on,  so  I  turned  in  along- 
side, thinking  it  a  safe  place.  I  didn't  know  they  were  dead 
men  until  a  posse  of  ambulance  men  took  hold  of  me  roughly, 
thinking  that  I  was  one  of  the  dead  fellers  they  were 
ordered  to  pick  up,  and  were  scared  half  to  death  when  I 
jumped  on  them  for  disturbing  my  sleep." 

Any  person  who  ever  met  Captain  Jones  will  understand 
that  it  would  be  very  funny  indeed  to  undertake  to  pick 
him  up  as  a  dead  man.  He  would  make  a  very  lively  corpse 
under  such  conditions. 

His  regiment  was  on  the  left  of  the  line,  and  as  we 
stood  together  in  the  little  depression  which  sheltered  them 
while  forming,  he  related  some  curious  expressions  and 
antics  of  the  boys,  showing  that  even  in  the  face  of  almost 
sure  death,  the  funny  fellows  have  their  last  say.  One 


156  ON  THE   WAR-PATH. 

big  fellow,  with  mock  heroism,  stepped  out  from  the  line 
saying,  " 'Who's  afeard  !  Come  on,  boys;  I'll  lead  you  !" 
strutted  up  the  little  rise  where  he  looked  over  the  top, 
turned  around  quickly,  and  marched  back  again  saying, 
"I  guess  not." 

Jones  says  : 

"  We  went  along  here  at  a  hell-bending  trot,  and  when 
we  came  to  that  fence,  the  first  impulse  was  to  climb  over, 
but  it  looked  as  if  every  fellow  that  got  up  on  top  was 
knocked  off,  as  if  some  one  had  been  throwing  rocks  at  a 
lot  of  blackbirds — all  disappeared  at  once  from  the  fence — 
and  then  every  fellow  made  a  rush  for  the  gate.  Not  one  of 
us  had  sense  enough  to  knock  the  fence  down;  and,  of 
course,  the  mass  of  men  crowding  at  the  gate  gave  the 
Rebels  a  dead  sure  chance,  and  we  got  hell  right  there." 

lie  then  pointed  out  the  location  of  the  fence  that  had 
been  there,  even  to  the  gate,  and  in  order  to  fortify  his 
memory,  the  party  accompanied  him  inside  the  yard  sur- 
rounding the  little  frame  cottage,  known  now  as  the 
Stevens  house,  which  stands  there  yet,  precisely  as  it  did 
during  the  battle — its  weather-board  walls  literally  riddled 
with  bullet-holes. 

The  owner,  Mrs.  Martha  Stevens,  who  lived  there  during 
the  battle,  has  steadily  refused  to  have  any  alterations  made 
to  her  home.  Thousands  visit  it  annually,  and,  perhaps, 
she  reaps  a  richer  harvest  from  the  tourists  who  usually 
contribute  something  by  way  of  compensation  for  the  dam- 
age, and  for  her  trouble  in  explaining  it  all. 

I  regret  to  say  that  Mrs.  Stevens  has  also  passed  to  the 
other  shore,  and  as  we  may  all  unexpectedly  be  called  there 


OK   THE    WAR-PATH.  157 

to  join  that  army,  I  desire  to  record  now  for  the  benefit 
of  others,  in  a  wholly  disinterested  and  truthful  way,  the 
fact,  attested  also  by  visitors  of  this  group,  that  Mrs. 
Stevens  on  this,  as  well  as  on  every  other  occasion,  asserted 
positively  that  the  men  who  made  the  last  charge,  just  be- 
fore night  got  the  nearest  to  the  wall. 

As  many  as  forty  dead  men  were  taken  from  her  yard, 
which  was  beyond  the  line  of  prostrate  troops,  and  within 
forty  yards  of  the  wall. 

Mrs.  Stevens  and  others,  who  were  cognizant  of  the 
affair  at  the  time,  have  not  hesitated  to  volunteer  this  infor- 
mation to  any  who  have  called  it  out.  She  is  not  at  all 
boastful,  and  in  no  way  interested  in  the  matter,  being  a 
most  uncompromising  female  Rebel — one  of  the  bitterest 
in  her  expressions  of  hatred  to  the  Yankees  to  the  day  of  her 
death.  So  that  the  statement  comes  from  her  rather  as  a 
reluctant  confession.  She  asserts  that  "  the  Yankees  did 
get  in  her  yard — piles  of  the  dirty  brutes.  Of  course 
I  couldn't  do  anything  but  hide,  and  the  Confederates 
never  came  out  from  the  road,  so  your  old  miserable  Yan- 
kees skulked  behind  the  house  and  hid  in  the  corner. 
Oh,"  she  added,  by  way  of  amendment,  "thar  warn't 
nothing  to  brag  about  in  sneaking  into  a  poor  woman's 
back  yard;  but  they  dassent  go  any  farther,  and  was 
afraid  to  show  themselves  by  running  back." 

In  this  connection  Jones  told  a  funny  story  at  the 
expense  of  his  own  color-bearer.  "You  know  men  under 
fire  are  like  drowning  men — they  will  catch  at  a  straw. 
Why,  we  know  brave  men  to  stand  behind  a  cornstalk, 
forgetting,  in  their  excitement,  that  any  such  object 


158  ON  THE   WAR-PATH. 

merely  serves  as  a  mark  and  is  no  defense.  Well,  that's 
why  our  fellows  stayed  in  this  yard.  It  was,  in  a  sense, 
untenable,  yet  these  poor  devils,  no  doubt,  imagined  a 
board  fence  a  protection  from  those  four  lines  of  muskets 
right  in  front. 

"Our  color-bearer  was  as  brave  a  man  as  ever  walked. 
In  the  charge  he  got  into  the  yard,  and,  in  order  to  protect 
himself  and  his  flag,  he  and  a  couple  of  others  shut 
themselves  up  in  the  little  outhouse.  They  were  afraid 
to  come  out  or  even  to  peep  out  of  the  door  facing  toward 
the  Rebels,  and  they  knew  nothing  of  what  was  going  on 
around  them,  staying  in  there  in  fancied  security  long 
after  the  regiment  had  been  called  off  the  field.  Inquiries 
were,  of  course,  made  about  the  colors,  and,  as  no  one 
could  answer,  it  was  supposed  that  they  had  been  left 
upon  the  field.  Along  in  the  night,  under  cover  of  the 
darkness,  and  during  the  quiet  that  followed,  the  boys 
crawled  out  and  brought  their  colors  safely  back. 

"The  story  leaked  out,  however,  and  after  we  got  back 
to  our  camp  over  the  river,  in  the  dajs  following,  at  every 
dress  parade,  when  the  colors  were  ordered  to  the  front, 
the  boys  could  be  seen  holding  their  noses  in  their  fingers, 
as  if  the  scent  of  the  battle  hung  around  it  still." 

The  Confederates  occupying  the  Heights  were  of  Long- 
street's  Corps,  the  troops  principally  from  the  extreme 
South,  so  that  it  is  difficult  to  find  an  old  residenter  who 
was  in  the  lines  then. 

Capt.  S.  J.  Quinn,  who  is  now  superintendent  of  the 
city  water  works,  wras,  I  believe,  a  member  of  Barksdale's 
Mississippi  Brigade,  that  assisted  in  preventing  the  build- 
ing of  the  pontoons. 


ON  THE   WAR-PATH.  159 

Col.  Kufus  B.  Merchant,  the  editor  and  proprietor  of 
the  bright  little  Fredericksburg  Star,  though  a  native  of 
this  part  of  Virginia,  was  so  eager  to  get  into  the  war  that 
he  enlisted  in  Cobb's  Georgia  Legion  before  his  State 
seceded.  Being  thoroughly  familiar  with  the  country,  he 
was  detailed  as  a  scout,  and  as  such  served  inside  our 
lines  during  the  greater  part  of  the  war.  He  was  known 
as  a  fearless,  daring  little  man,  on  whom  Longstreet 
depended  largely  for  reliable  information. 

Probably  there  is  not  now  a  more  popular  resident  of 
this  old  town  than  Mr.  Merchant,  and  numerous  Federal 
visitors  in  recent  years  have  testified  to  his  many  courtesies 
and  kindnesses.  Through  the  columns  of  his  Star,  many 
of  the  families  of  Federal  soldiers  have  been  able  to  look 
up  matter  of  personal  war  history.  The  Rebel  scout  and 
the  Yankee  scout,  though  opposite  in  politics  as  well  as  in 
temperament,  each  holding  tenaciously  to  the  belief  that 
he  was  right,  are  to-day  the  best  of  friends.  Indeed,  I  do 
not  know  of  any  one  whose  friendship  I  more  esteem  than 
that  of  my  little  Rebel. 

There  is  generally  the  best  of  feeling  exhibited  between 
the  men  of  the  Northern  and  Southern  armies  when  they 
chance  to  meet.  Indeed,  it  may  be  safely  asserted  that 
the  genuine  old  soldiers  of  both  sides  are  always  friendly 
in  their  intercourse.  The  men  who  carried  guns  and  used 
them  have  now  no  enmity  towards  those  that,  in  turn,  fired 
back  at  them  to  kill.  It  is  only  the  latter-day  warriors  or 
those  who  stayed  at  home  that  now  shoot  their  mouths  off. 
As  there  was,  comparatively  speaking,  no  stay-at-home  in 
the  South,  the  old  ladies  do  their  talking.  We  can,  there- 


ICO  ON   THE   WAR-PATH. 

fore,  allow  our  old-women  soldiers  to  fight  it  out  with 
those  of  the  South. 

As  illustrating  this  feeling,  I  tell  this  true  story  of  a 
recent  experience: 

I  happened  to  be  in  Fredericksburg  on  Memorial  day 
of  1888,  doing  some  newspaper  scouting,  of  which  more 
anon.  One  evening,  while  seated  on  the  hotel  pavement, 
enjoying  the  delightful  weather  and  eyeing  the  pretty  Vir- 
ginia girls  that  do  their  shopping  in  town  on  horseback,  I 
was  accosted  by  two  gentlemen  wearing  the  familiar  old 
butternut  gray,  who  quietly  intimated  that  they  had  been 
sent  to  escort  me  up  to  their  "camp."  They  declined  to 
give  any  further  information  and  looked  as  if  they  meant 
business.  I  saw  that  it  was  useless  to  resist,  so  nervously 
accompanied  them  up  a  back  street  with  dire  apprehen- 
sions of  a  ku-kluxing  that  the  Northern  newspaper  man  was 
to  be  subjected  to.  Into  a  large  room  of  the  town  hall 
we  were  ushered,  introduced  to  the  High  Mucky  Muck 
who  was  sitting  on  a  dais,  wearing  a  Confederate  officer's 
uniform  from  which  dangled  the  Rebel  battle-flag  badge. 

This  gentleman's  courteous  manner,  genial  face  and 
warm  greeting  rather  assured  me  that  I  was  in  safe  hands, 
as  long  as  he  held  the  baton.  It  was  Captain  Dan  Lee,  a 
brother  of  Governor  Fitz-IIugh  Lee  and  a  nephew  of  Gen. 
R.  E.  Lee.  In  a  neat  little  talk,  he  explained  that  the 
members  of  the  M.  F.  Maury  Camp  of  Confederate  Vet- 
erans, learning  that  four  Federal  soldiers  were  in  town,  of 
which  I  was  one,  desired  to  learn  their  wishes  in  the  mat- 
ter of  the  Confederate  camp,  offering  their  united  ser- 
vices in  assisting  the  four  Federals,  in  decorating  the 


ON  THE   WAE-PATH.  161 

graves  of  the  Federals  in  the  National  cemetery  ou  Marye's 
Heights,  and  adding  that  their  services  were  tendered  gladly 
to  this  end;  though  they  preferred  not  to  be  associated 
with  the  mob  of  colored  people,  who  had  been  in  the  habit 
of  making  a  picnic  out  of  the  day. 

As  I  had  no  authority  to  act  for  the  G.  A.  R.,  except 
in  an  individual  capacity  as  a  comrade  of  the  Kit  Carson 
Post  of  Washington.  I  could  only  express  personal  grati- 
tude to  the  camp  for  their  generous  offer,  which  I  knew 
was  prompted  by  the  noblest  of  motives  of  friendship, 
loyalty  and  charity. 

Major  Birdsall,  an  ex-Union  soldier  and  the  efficient 
superintendent  of  the  cemeterv.  being  present,  accepted 
the  services  tendered. 

On  the  morning  of  that  Memorial  day — one  never  to 
be  forgotten,  and  I  would  that  my  poor  pen  could  record 
it,  so  that  every  G.  A.  R.  comrade  in  the  land  might 
become  interested — the  Fredericks!) urg  Grays,  a  crack 
military  organization  composed  of  the  young  men  of 
the  town,  fitly  representing  the  New  South,  headed  by  the 
brass  band  of  the  town,  escorted  the  four  solitary  Federals 
to  the  rendezvous  of  the  Confederates.  Here  we  found 
eighty-one  old  Rebels  in  line  to  receive  us;  instead  of  the 
guns  they  used  to  carry,  each  had  a  boquet  of  beautiful 
flowers  in  his  hand.  We  were  placed  at  the  head  of  the 
little  column;  Captain  Dan  Lee,  on  behalf  of  some  ladies, 
then  presented  each  Federal  with  a  beautiful  boquet  of 
flowers,  stating  that  the  ladies  of  the  town  had,  on  this 
occasion,  divided  their  offerings  between  the  Confederate 
and  Federal  cemeteries. 


1G^  ON    THE    tt'AIi-i'ATH. 

Under  command  of  Captain  Lee,  we  marched  out  the 
same  old  Hanover  street,  or  telegraph  road,  the  band 
playing  patriotic  airs,  followed  by  the  eighty-one  Con- 
federates in  gray  clothes,  armed  with  bouquets.  We  fol- 
lowed precisely  the  same  paths  our  army  trod  on  their  way 
to  that  terrible  battle  on  that  dreadful  December  day, 
twenty-five  years  ago.  Reaching  the  elevation  known  as 
Federal  Hill,  we  pass  the  house  Hooker  occupied  as  his 
headquarters;  at  this  point  our  troops  came  in  sight  of  the 
Confederates  and  received  their  baptism  of  fire;  moving 
slowly  down  the  little  declivity,  I  point  out  to  my  compan- 
ion the  spot  where  Hancock,  Humphreys  and  Couch  liela 
their  brief  consultation  before  the  final  charge.  We  cross 
the  mill-race  running  through  the  low  ground  and  go  on 
beyond  the  depression  under  which  our  lines  were  formed. 
Passing  the  point  usually  designated  as  "  the  farthest 
advance  of  the  Union  line,"  we  turn  into  the  "sunken 
road,"  marching  along  it,  behind  and  between  the  remains 
of  the  stone  wall,  past  Mrs.  Stevens'  house.  Right  here  is 
erected  a  solitary  stone,  the  only  monument  at  Fredericks- 
burg  which  marks  the  place  where  General  Cobb,  of 
Georgia,  was  killed.  Almost  involutarily,  we  four  Federals 
follow  the  example  of  Captain  Lee  and  lift  our  caps  as  we 
pass  it. 

Reaching  the  gate  of  the  Federal  cemetery,  which  is 
located  on  the  point  farthest  south  or  nearest  the  railroad 
cut,  the  band  files  to  one  side  and  plays  a  solemn  dirge  as 
we  enter  the  sacred  precincts  of  the  dead.  Every  Confeder- 
ate, as  he  moves  in,  reverently  takes  off  his  hat,  uncovering 
to  the  light  of  a  bright  May  sun  eighty-one  gray-headed  and 


ON   THE   WAR-PATH.  163 

gray-coated  noblemen.  Great  God !  what  a  scene  was  this. 
When  I  look  back  upon  this  picture  and  listen  to  the  war 
talk  of  the  croaker  or  politician,  who,  to  get  soldiers' 
votes,  may  appeal  to  his  former  prejudices,  I  recall  this  day 
and  regret  that  all  may  not  have  witnessed  it  as  I  did;  that 
it  was  wholly  a  sincere  and  disinterested  exhibition  of  gen- 
uine good  comradeship,  goes  without  saying.  There  was 
no  other  motive,  there  could  be  none  other  than  that 
prompted  by  genuine  good  feeling,  as  nothing  was  to  be 
gained.  Inside  the  cemetery  were  assembled  a  number 
of  ladies  of  the  town.  Addresses  were  made  by  both 
Federals  and  Confederates,  and  at  the  conclusion  of  the 
services  at  the  rostrum,  every  grave  was  decorated  —  the 
Confederates  and  Federals — ladies  and  children  assisting  in 
this  pleasant  and  beautiful  task.  This  cemetery  is  one  of 
the  most  beautifully  located  in  the  country.  From  this 
ground,  once  occupied  as  Lee's  headquarters,  and  bristling 
with  Confederate  glory,  may  be  had  a  magnificent  pan- 
oramic view  of  the  section  of  country  occupied  by  both 
armies.  Across  the  river  are  the  Stafford  Heights,  the 
ruins  of  the  Phillips  House  being  barely  outlined  among 
the  trees  that  have,  in  late  years,  grown  around  its  crum- 
bling walls.  The  Lacey  House,  freshened  up  as  the  res- 
idence of  a  wealthy  Northern  gentleman,  nestles  quietly  on 
top  of  its  beautiful  green  terraces.  The  "  Slaughter- 
house/' now  the  residence  of  Judge  Souther,  of  Pennsyl- 
vania, on  this  side  the  river,  while  right  below  it  on  the 
bank,  may  be  seen  the  walls  of  the  Bernard  House,  where 
Franklin  crossed.  Immediately  below  the  cemetery  is  the 
railroad  cut  where  so  many  brave  men  lost  their  lives,  and 


1G4  OX   THE    WAR-PATH. 

directly  in  front  the  Irish  Brigade  charged.  It  is  a  singu- 
lar fact  that  this  very  ground  on  which  the  Irish  charged, 
was  once  a  corn-field,  and  during  the  Irish  famine  the  crop 
from  this  identical  spot  was  gathered  and  loaded  aboard  a 
vessel  then  in  the  river  receiving  supplies  to  be  sent  to 
Ireland. 

Through  the  good  management  of  Major  Bird  sail,  this 
Marye's  cemetery  is  each  year  becoming  more  attractive. 
It  is  largely  patronized  by  the  town  people  as  an  attractive 
resort,  and  many  walk  out  to  its  agreeable  shades  in  pleas- 
ant weather. 

I  have  previously  stated  that  the  number  of  interments 
almost  equals  Arlington.  There  are  buried  here  15,273 
Union  soldiers;  of  this  number  12,'.Upj  arc  unknown.  In 
every  other  respect  it  excels  Arlington — it  ought  to  excel 
Arlington  in  general  interest  to  the  old  soldier  of  the  Army 
of  the  Potomac.  Those  who  sleep  in  this  Marye's  bivouac 
died  at  the  front;  a  number  of  them  in  battle,  or  from 
wounds  resulting  therefrom,  and  are  buried  on  the  bttttle- 
fiehh. 

After  the  war  the  bones  of  a  number  were  gathered  from 
the  surrounding  fields  and  reinterred  at  this  place.  A  great 
many  could  not  be  identified,  and  these  sleep  sometimes  as 
many  as  six  in  one  grave,  being  simply  marked  "unknown." 
Probably  every  State  in  the  Union  is  represented  in  this 
"unknown  army."  In  a  majority  of  cases,  no  doubt,  they 
are  the  remains  of  young  men  who  were  so  far  from  home 
and  their  parents  and  friends  were  too  poor  to  have  their 
bodies,  when  identified,  lifted  and  taken  to  their  homes,  as 
was  the  custom  with  the  more  favored.  Yet,  practically 


OX   THE   WAR-PATH.  165 

and  bluntly  speaking,  this  cemetery  is  neglected  by  the 
G.  A.  R.  as  an  organization.  Being  in  the  Department  of 
Virginia^  which  in  the  very  nature  of  things  is  weak  in 
G.  A.  R  Posts,  is  no  valid  excuse  for  this  shameful  oversight 
of  years.  Undoubtedly  the  comrades  of  the  Virginia  de- 
partment would  gladly  accept  the  tender  of  assistance 
from  Washington.  The  three  thousand  comrades  in  that 
district,  who,  with  their  families  and  friends,  crowd  to 
Arlington  each  recurring  year  to  listen  to  proper  tributes 
from  popular  orators,  and  employ  bands  to  play  dirges,  hire 
glee  clubs  to  sing  requiems,  and  endure  poets,  might  at 
least  induce  their  overflow  to  come  to  Marye's  Heights  and 
put  a  few  flowers  on  the  neglected  graves  there.  It  is  but 
an  hour  and  a  half  ride  from  Washington  and  is  on  this 
account  practically  as  accessible  as  is  Arlington,  as  trains 
will  comfortably  carry  the  tourist  directly  to  the  field  where 
an  afternoon  maybe  most  profitably  spent  in  a  battle-field. 
Through  some  personal  effort  in  the  year  following  this 
event,  the  members  of  the  G.  A.  R.  were  stirred  up  by  this 
correspondent,  contributions  were  solicited  by  the  Rich- 
mond Posts  to  enable  them  to  decorate  Marye's  Heights  ;  a 
special  train  was  engaged  for  the  Richmond  Posts  and  com- 
rades, who  were  met  by  a  number  of  Washington  persons 
who  volunteered  their  assistance  and  paid  their  own  ex- 
penses. The  Commander  of  Virginia,  in  making  his  ad- 
dress said  :  "The  little  band  under  whose  auspices  these 
ceremonies  are  held,  these  graves  garnished  with  flowers, 
are  only  messengers  to  bring  garlands  furnished  by  mothers, 
sisters  and  daughters  of  those  friends.  All  over  the  coun- 
try from  Maine  to  California  came  pouring  into  our  treasury 


IGti  ON   THE    WAR-PATH. 

the  means  necessary  for  this  demonstration  of  devotion." 
Though  only  a  year  following  the  voluntary  offer  of  services 
by  the  Confederates  and  the  offerings  of  flowers^by  the 
ladies  of  the  town  they  were  forgotten.  It  is  but  just  to 
say,  however  impolitic  it  may  be, as  comrades  of  the  G.  A.  II. 
who  contributed  to  that  end  should  know  it,  that  the 
offer  of  the  same  Confederates  to  again  assist  in  this  ser- 
vice, was  tendered,  but  for  some  unexplained  reason  it  was 
declined.  Was  this  gracious  or  manly  on  the  part  of  the 
Virginia  comrades  who  had  previously  overlooked  Freder- 
icksburg  for  years?  There  is  no  politics  in  the  G.  A.  II., 
of  course  not,  but  I  sometimes  imagine  that  the  ungenerous 
refusal  to  permit  the  Confederates  to  again  co-operate  in 
this  service,  emanated  from  the  fact  that  there  was  probably 
some  personal  politics  underlying  it.  I  am  personally  a 
Republican  from  away  back,  one  who  votes  with  three 
generations  of  the  family  consistently — my  father  being 
one  of  those  who  voted  for  the  elder  Harrison  twice,  both 
when  defeated  and  elected — so  it  will  be  remembered 
that  I  write  as  a  llepublican  and  Union  soldier. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

ELUCTANTLY  we  are  leaving  Fredericksburg, 
the  scene  of  so  many  bitter  and  sweet  memories. 
To  the  old  soldier  there  is  a  peculiar  magnetism 
about  the  old  town  that  attracts  and  holds  him  here  like  a 
loadstone.  To  the  student  or  the  tourist  from  any  coun- 
try it  presents  many  very  interesting  features.  The  invalid 
also  may  here  enjoy  in  quiet  and  comfort  the  agreeable  and 
exhilarating  climate,  on  what  may  be  termed  the  foot- 
hills of  the  Blue  Ridge,  far  enough  in  the  interior  or  from 
the  tide- water  to  avoid  the  dampness  and  malaria,  but  yet, 
happily  convenient  enough  to  the  waters  to  obtain  the 
abundant  oysters  and  fish  fresh  from  the  Chesapeake,  and 
to  the  rich  soil  to  get  its  products.  The  manufacturer 
here  will  find  unequalled  water-power  supplied  from  the 
falls  above  town,  as  well  as  water  navigation,  enabling 
the  largest  vessels  to  come  up  to  its  wharves  to  bring  fuel 
and  carry  away  the  products. 

There  are  a  number  of  mineral  springs  inside  the  cor- 
porate limits,  the  most  remarkable  being  that  known  as 
"  The  Gunnery  spring,"  which  is  located  on  the  battle- 
ground. A  stream  of  pure  cold  water,  sufficient  to  supply 
the  entire  town,  bursts  from  the  rocky  hillside  and  flows  in 
a  never-diminishing  volume  into  the  neighboring  Hazel 
Run.  There  are  any  number  of  traditions  and  legends 
and  true  stories  associated  with  the  numerous  glens  and 
romantic  nooks  hereabouts.  It  is  said  of  Gunnery  spring 
that  any  one  who  ever  partakes  of  its  water  is  fated  to 

167 


1G8  ON   THE    WAK-PATII. 

return  again  to  the  fountain  head.  A  very  sweet  little 
girl,  with  whom  I  walked  down  there  one  moonlight  even- 
ing, was  the  Eve  who  tempted  me  by  proffering  the  cup, 
from  which  I  innocently  accepted  the  fatal  draught.  She 
is  now  fully  convinced  of  the  truthfulness  of  the  legend 
and  the  efficacy  of  this  water. 

Perhaps  the  time  may  come  when  this  old  town,  so  close 
to  the  Capital,  may  become  a  Mecca;  such  as  has  been  made 
of  Gettysburg,  and  maybe  the  blood-stained  soil  may  yet 
produce  a  crop  of  monuments  that  will  equal  Gettysburg.  If 
each  separate  deed  of  heroism  done  here  were  marked  by  a 
stone,  the  ground  would  be  a  forest  of  monuments.  Who 
knows — perhaps  the  Government  will,  in  time,  reserve  more 
of  this  battle-ground  as  a  National  park;  hotels  may  spring 
up  around  its  numerous  springs.  Here  might  appropri- 
ately be  comrnemornted  alike  in  a  commingling  of  monu- 
ments the  heroism  of  both  sides. 

We  linger  around  the  outskirts  a  little  while,  driving 
out  to  Chancellorsville,  about  eight  miles  distant.  It  was 
one  of  my  privileges,  while  in  Fredericksburg,  to  have 
accompanied  Rev.  Dr.  Smith  and  Mr.  Vess. 'Chancellor, 
who  were  a  committee  to  select  the  location  for  a  monu- 
ment to  mark  the  spot  on  which  General  " Stonewall" 
Jackson  received  his  tnortal  wound.  Dr.  Smith,  who  is 
the  popular  minister  of  the  Presbyterian  Church,  is  one  of 
the  historic  characters  of  this  historic  place.  It  was  he 
who  contributed  the  Century  article  on  "Jackson's  Last 
Battle,"  that  attracted  so  much  attention .  He  was  the  aide 
on  General  Jackson's  staff,  who  so  gallantly  dashed  to  the 
front  on  learning  that  his  General  was  wounded,  finding 


ON   THE    WAR-PATH.  169 

him  on  the  road  near  the  spot  that  he  pointed  out  to  me, 
which  they  decided  upon  as  a  proper  site  for  the  monu- 
ment. Though  it  was  a  dark  night,  he  recalled  the  loca- 
tion, because  of  a  slight  depression  or  cut  in  the  road;  he 
remembers  having  to  step  up  to  get  off  the  road.  It  is  the 
only  place  in  the  neighborhood  with  that  distinctive  feat- 
ure. When  the  terrific  shelling  from  the  Union  artillery 
struck  down  the  litter-bearers  who  were  carrying  Jackson 
off  the  field,  the  young  aide-de-camp  threw  himself  over 
the  prostrate  form  of  his  General,  with  the  noble,  self-sac- 
rificing intention  of  shielding  him  by  the  interposition  of 
his  own  person.  Our  "  Major  Pastor/'  as  his  friends  some- 
times call  him,  is  a  rather  quiet,  modest  little  gentleman, 
whose  happy  manners,  light  steps  and  smooth  face  rather 
remind  one  of  a  theological  student  who  is  at  home,  glad 
that  school  is  over.  The  Doctor  is  a  Northern  man  by 
birth  and  education,  his  father  being  one  of  the  early  pas- 
tors of  a  large  congregation  in  Greensburg,  Pa.  He 
attended  school  in  Pittsburgh,  and  was  graduated  at  Jef- 
ferson College,  in  Washington,  Pa.,  in  the  same  class  with 
that  other  Presbyterian  soldier,  Governor  Beaver.  He 
spent  most  of  his  time  in  the  South,  however,  and  married 
an  estimable  Virginia  lady,  Agnes,  the  daughter  of  Major 
Lacey,  of  the  well-known  Lacey  House,  opposite  Freder- 
icksburg,  now  the  lady  president  of  the  Martha  Washing- 
ton Association — Mrs.  James  Powers  Smith. 

It  will  be  remembered  that  in  the  battle  following  the 
one  previously  described,  the  Federals  crossed  in  force  at 
United  States  Ford,  above  town  some  miles.  The  6th 
Corps,  under  Sedgwick,  crossed  in  front  of  the  town  in 


170  ON   THE    WAK-1'ATH. 

the  same  manner  as  before,  advanced  over  the  same  ground, 
and,  on  an  early  Sunday  morning  in  May,  1863,  this  Corps 
assaulted  and  captured  Marye's  Heights,  putting  the  Con- 
federates to  llight.  They  were  pursued  out  this  same  road 
we  are  driving,  making  a  brave  stand  at  Salem  Church, 
about  three  miles  from  town,  which  bears  the  marks  of  the 
Federal  bullets.  It  is  conceded  that  Lee  was  surprised  and 
turned  out  of  his  position  by  Hooker's  admirable  manoeu- 
vre. At  this  time  the  Confederate  army  was  literally  con- 
fronted by  Hooker's  superior  force  at  Chancellorsville, 
while  Sedgwick's  magnificent  Gth  Corps  was  in  his  rear. 
Up  toa  certain  point  here  Hooker  was  successful;  but  then 
came  a  most  disastrous  halt,  or  hesitancy,  of  some-  hours, 
if  not  an  entire  day,  which  enabled  Lee  to  gather  himself 
up,  who  then  hurled  Jackson  on  the  rear  of  the  llth  Corps 
and  demoralized  the  army,  and  then  turned  around  and 
drove  Sedgwick's  isolated  Gth  Corps  back. 

The  "  explanations  "  for  the  disaster  would  fill  a  good- 
sized  library,  not  alone  one  book,  and  can  not  even  be 
outlined  in  -this  chapter.  Hooker  was  so  confident  of 
success  that  he  telegraphed  Mr.  Lincoln  "  I've  got  Lee  in 
such  a  tight  place  that  God  Almighty  can't  get  him  out ;" 
and,  by  the  way,  that  is  the  only  recognition  of  God  there 
ever  was  in  his  dispatches.  Yet  within  an  hour  from  this 
time  Hooker's  magnificent  army  was  defeated.  What 
caused  it?  Why  did  Hooker  stop  when  he  should  have 
been  most  energetic?  Some  say  the  explosion  of  a  shell 
incapacitated  him.  I  do  not  give  it  as  my  opinion,  but  we 
have  heard  it  whispered  that  in  the  headquarters  a  bottle 
of  whiskey  caused  the  inaction.  I  make  public  this  report 


ON  THE    WAR-PATH.  171 

that  it  may  be  controverted  by  those  who  should  know.  I 
would  not  like  to  furnish  the  temperance  cranks  with 
such  a  text  for  their  lectures,  but  it  does  seem  as  if 
whiskey  is  responsible  for  the  deaths  of  a  good  many  of 
those  who  touch  not,  taste  not  and  handle  not. 

About  half  a  mile  beyond  the  Chancellor  House, 
which  is  about  all  there  is  of  Chancellorsville,  we  found  a 
large  quartz  rock  which  Mr.  Chancellor  and  Major  Lacey 
had  placed  there  some  years  since,  as  a  rough  mark  to  in- 
dicate the  spot  where  Jackson  fell.  This  will  be  recalled 
by  those  who  have  visited  the  ground  since  the  war.  The 
completed  monument  stands  near  where  this  stone  lay.  As 
a  matter  of  fact,  however,  neither  of  these  stones  properly 
mark  the  spot  where  Jackson  received  his  wounds.  It  is 
conceded  that  he  received  the  three  balls  while  riding  in 
the  woods,  over  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  the  place  indi- 
cated by  the  monument.  He  was  subsequently  carried  out 
in  the  road  and  laid  on  some  stone.  The  object  in  placing 
the  monument  in  this  location  is  plainly  stated  to  be: — 
because  it  is  more  convenient  to  tourists  on  the  roadside 
than  if  it  were  placed  in  the  rather  dense  wood  where 
Jackson  actually  received  his  wound.  It  approximately 
marks  the  spot,  the  inscription  reading:  "  Nerir  tins  spot 
General  Jackson  received  his  mortal  wound."  Dr.  Smith 
told  me  he  found  Gen.  Jackson  in  the  woods  shortly  after 
he  was  wounded,  lying  upon  the  ground  with  his  head  in 
Gen.  A.  P.  Hill's  lap.  At  this  time  it  was  but  a  short 
distance  outside  of  the  Confederate  lines  and  if  an  advance 
had  been  made  by  Federal  skirmishers,  both  Generals, 
Jackson  and  Hill,  would  have  become  prisoners  of  the 


2  ON   THE   WAR-PATH. 

Federals,    probably  with  numerous  others  who  were  at- 
tracted to  the  wounded  General. 

Major  Lacey,  who  was  on  the  ground  as  one  of  the 
Confederate  committee  with  the  Smiths  and  Mr.  Chan- 
cellor, the  owner  of  the  farm,  surprised  me  by  expressing 
his  opinion  in  a  decided  manner.  "  This  will  do  as  well 
as  any  place  near  here  to  put  our  monument.  No  one  can 
give  us  anything  at  all  definite  about  the  exact  spot  where 
he  was  wounded."  My  interest  and  curiosity  becoming 
aroused  by  the  observation,  and  the  quiet  and  tacit  manner 
in  which  it  was  received  by  the  other  gentlemen  of  the  com- 
mittee, I  availed  myself  of  the  first  opportunity  to  interview 
Major  Lacey  on  the  interesting  question  of  the  manner  of 
General  Jackson's  death.  Major  Lacey  is  well  known  as 
the  companion  of  General  Lee  during  the  war.  In  earlier 
days  he  was  the  proprietor  of  Chatham,  where  he  lived, 
which  subsequently  became  universally  known  in  official 
correspondence  as  the  Lacey  House.  He  was  the  owner  of 
this  vast  estate,  comprising  some  GOO  acres  and  300  slaves; 
and  it  is  said  General  Lee  courted  his  wife  there.  Major 
Lacey  is  yet  a  vigorous  man,  erect  in  carriage,  and  retain- 
ing his  old-time  courteous,  but  dignified  bearing.  He 
now  lives  at  the  Wilderness.  In  his  positive  manner  he 
continued:  "  Why,  Jackson  was  shot  nearly  a  half-mile 
from  here,  over  in  the  woods  there.  It  was  a  dark  night 
and  he  evidently  made  a  miscalculation,  both  as  to  his  own 
and  the  enemy's  lines,  which  was  fatal  to  him  and  might 
have  been  to  our  army."  In  reply  to  the  query  that 
naturally  comes' to  every  old  soldier,  "Why  should  the 
Lieutenant-General  of  all  that  army  go,  personally,  outside 


ON   THE    WAR- PATH.  173 

his  own  lines  to  reconnoiter  or  locate  an  enemy's  picket- 
Iine3  in  the  darkness  of  a  wood  at  night?"  It  was  not  a 
necessity  at  all;  and,  if  it  had  been,  we  all  know  from  a  ter- 
rible experience  that  it  is  the  "common  soldier"  that  is  so 
frequently  sacrificed  to  "feel"  an  enemy  by  being  pushed 
forward  to  "draw  his  fire."  Major  Lacey  looked  at  me 
curiously  as  he  said  more  hesitatingly:  "Of  course  it  was 
a  mistake  for  Jackson  to  put  his  own  life  in  jeopardy  and 
thus  imperil  his  Army."  While  Dr.  Smith  and  Mr. 
Chancellor  were  busy  using  a  tape-line  and  driving  pegs  to 
mark  the  half-acre  selected  for  the  monument  site,  I 
endeavored  to  keep  Major  Lacey's  attention  to  the  ques- 
tion. He  is  a  brilliant  conversationalist  as  well  as  a  writer, 
who  also  contributed  to  the  Century  war  papers.  Among 
many  other  interesting  incidents  he  then  related,  I  repeat 
in  substance  his  words: 

"  I  never  believed  Jackson  was  killed  by  his  own  men." 
This  was  something  entirely  new,  as  I  had  always  supposed, 
from  the  general  accounts  furnished  by  the  Confederates, 
which  no  one  seemed  or  cared  to  dispute,  and  for  that 
reason  generally  accepted  as  true,  perhaps,  that  Jackson 
was  accidentally  killed  by  a  volley  from  his  own  command. 

Pressing  Major  Lacey  for  his  further  opinion,  he  con- 
tinued in  the  same  unguarded  way,  without  being  corrected 
by  the  others:  "  "Well,  in  the  first  place,  no  one  can  know 
positively  anything  about  it,  as  those  who  were  beside 
Jackson  at  the  time  were  either  killed  or  died  soon  after 
without  leaving  any  testimony  on  this  point.  lie  was 
taken  from  his  horse  and  carried  over  on  to  this  road  here; 
after  that,  we  have  only  the  evidence  of  those  who  at- 
tended him." 


174  ON    THE    WAR-PATH. 

"It  is  not  stated  that  Jackson  himself  left  any  positive 
evidence  of  the  fire  having  come  from  his  line  ?" 

"  No,  I  believe  not ;  probably  he  never  once  referred  to 
it ;  though  it  may  be  in  reply  to  some  suggestion,  when  in 
a  semi-conscious  condition,  his  answers  may  have  justified 
such  an  inference  on  the  part  of  those  who  preferred  to  put 
such  an  interpretation  upon  it.  We  know  the  point  at 
which  he  passed  out  of  our  lines;  and  the  instructions  he 
left  to  fire  on  any  noise  coining-  from  the  direction  he  was 
then  going  is  explained  on  the  hypothesis  that  he  intended 
to  return  to  his  lines  from  another  direction/' 

"But,  Major  Lacey,  wasn't  that  rather  reckless  in  u 
general  to  cut  down  the  bridge  he  passed  over,  expecting  to 
be  able  to  pass  inside  of  7//.s  own  tincx  in  safety  in  the  dark- 
ness of  a  night  in  a  dense  wood?  His  own  troops  would 
naturally  be  looking  for  only  enemies  coming  from  that 
direction,  and  as  our  lines  were  so  close  that  the  picket- 
firing  was  constant,  it  was  dangerous  on  all  sides  and 
utterly  useless." 

"  Yes,  that  is  all  true  enough,  and  the  reports  say  that 
he  had  scarcely  gotten  beyond  his  lines  when  firing  began 
in  his  front.  This  was  probably  replied  to  by  some  of  the 
Confederate  pickets,  but  the  fact  is  entirely  lost  sight  of, 
that  without  exception  the  Confederate  troops  who  were 
in  front  of  where  Jackson  fell,  deny  most  strenuously  hav- 
ing fired  to  the  front  at  that  time.  In  this  they  were  fully 
substantiated  by  their  officers,  in  an  official  investigation." 
lie  concluded  in  an  emphatic  tone:  "  There  has  never  been 
any  evidence  yet  produced  to  prove  that  Jackson  was  shot 
by  his  own  men,  though  every  effort  was  made  to  establish 
this  point." 


OK   THE   WAR-PATH.  175 

In  mentioning  this  matter  to  Dr.  Smith  at  the  time,  he 
expressed  his  dissent  from  Major  Lacey's  conclusions  and 
says  he  is  satisfied  that  Jackson  was  killed  by  his  own  men. 
In  subsequently  looking  up  this  question  during  some  time 
spent  in  the  neighborhood  in  which  I  took  every  occasion 
to  question  ex-Confederates,  I  found  that  very  many  promi- 
nent Confederates  were  of  the  opinion  that  the  shots  that 
wounded  their  favorite  general  came  from  the  Union 
advance,  or  skirmishers  that  were  in  the  woods  in  Jack- 
son's front  at  that  time.  I  regret  that  I  am  prohibited 
from  giving  the  names  of  some  of  the  Confederates  who 
entertain  this  opinion.  They  naturally  dislike  to  be  quoted 
publicly  as  antagonizing  a  popular  delusion,  that  so  many 
of  their  people  innocently  cherish.  A  member  of  Mum- 
ford's  Ninth  Virginia  Cavalry  who  was  on  duty  on  the 
advance  of  the  Confederate  line  and  saw  Jackson  go  out 
near  his  post,  voluntarily  observed:  "Jackson  was  shot  by 
a  fire  from  the  woods  in  my  front,  and  not  from  our  own 
line.  We  were  on  advance  picket  post  in  front  of  North 
Carolina  troops  and  if  the  fire  had  come  from  them,  we 
should  have  received  it."  This  is  from  a  well-to-do  farmer 
and  a  reliable  gentleman  living  in  Stafford  county,  Va.  This 
universal  testimony  from  Confederates  only,  and  all  of  a 
prominent  character,  is  offered  in  these  War-path  papers 
as  serving  to  correct  another  historical  error.  It  may  be 
established  by  this  agitation  from  what  regiment  or  what 
detail  of  skirmishers  of  the  Federal  troops  these  shots 
were  fired.  It  is  clearly  shown  that  the  Union  troops 
farthest  in  advance  in  the  woods,  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
directly  in  front  of  the  Chancellor  House,  and  on  the  same 


176  ON   THE   WAR-PATH. 

side  of  the  road  but  back  in  the  woods  some  distance, 
fired  the  volley  that  deprived  the  Confederate  Army  of 
their  greatest  chieftain.  It  may  be  termed  the  fatal  shot 
or  death-wound  of  the  Rebellion.  After  Jackson's  death, 
the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia  never  again  won  a  battle. 
General  Lee  took  them  to  Gettysburg  and  Grant  subse- 
quently fought  them  on  nearly  this  same  ground,  at  the 
Wilderness  and  where  Sedgwick  was  killed,  and  a  com- 
panion monument  to  this  glorious  Union  General  rests  in 
the  shadows  of  those  solemn  woods. 

Dr.  Smith  kindly  piloted  me  over  the  ground  occupied 
by  the  Confederates  during  the  battle  of  Chancellorsville, 
from  Salem  Church  to  the  forks  of  the  road,  where  Generals 
Lee  and  Jackson  held  their  last  counsel,  in  which  was 
arranged  the  hazardous  flank  movement  of  Jackson's, 
which  resulted  in  successfully  routing  the  lllh  Corps. 
A  question  arising  amongst  the  gentlemen  of  the  Confed- 
erate Monument  committee  then  present  as  to  the  dis- 
tance Jackson's  troops  were  compelled  to  march  to  get 
around  Hooker,  Dr.  Smith  thought  it  less  than  ten  miles, 
but  he  was  an  aide  and  had  a  good  horse  to  do  his  march- 
ing for  him;  while  Captain  Lai  Taliaferro,  then  a  Lieuten- 
ant of  the  Forty-seventh  Infantry  of  Jackson's  Corps, 
tramped  the  ground  and  is  positive  they  marched  fully 
fifteen  miles.  Dr.  Smith's  story  of  this  last  bivouac  of 
Generals  Lee  and  Jackson,  as  related  to  me  while  we  were 
together  on  the  very  ground  they  occupied,  was  very 
interesting.  "  I  was  acting  as  chief  of  couriers  at  the 
time,"  the  Doctor  said,  as  he  jumped  out  of  his  buggy, 
"  and  if  you  will  step  over  this  way  we  will  stand  under  the 


ON  THE   AVAR-PATH.  177 

identical  trees  where  I  found  Generals  Lee  and  Jackson 
sitting  on  the  two  boxes,  talking  earnestly  to  each  other, 
the  light  of  the  little  fire  beside  them  weirdly  illumining 
their  faces  so  that  none  of  those  who  witnessed  that  scene 
can  ever  forget  it." 

"  Doctor,  did  General  Lee  originate  the  flank  move- 
ment ?  " 

Looking  significantly  and  smilingly  at  Captain  Chan- 
cellor and  the  other  gentlemen  present,  he  replied:  "  That 
is  a  disputed  question,  and  I  do  not  care  to  give  my 
opinion;  but  it  is  thought  the  evidence  bears  strongest  in 
favor  of  Jackson,  as  you  will  remember  General  Lee,  in 
his  note  to  Jackson,  received  after  his  wound,  gave  him 
the  credit  for  the  victory." 

The  Doctor,  walking  toward  the  road,  pointing  to 
a  woods  on  the  right,  continued  :  "  There  was  a  battery 
of  yours  down  there  some  place  that  kept  up  a  desultory 
shelling  all  day.  It  annoyed  General  Jackson  strangely; 
for  some  reason  he  kept  sending  his  aides  out,  as  fast  as 
they  reported  to  him,  to  locate  it.  It  fell  to  my  lot  to  ride 
over  into  the  thicket  to  try  to  find  out  where  those  shells 
came  from;  but  on  account  of  the  density  of  the  growth  I 
could  not  get  through  there,  so  I  rode  around  to  the  other 
road,  and  it  so  happened  that  I  did  not  get  back  until  late 
that  night.  It  was  then  that  I  found  the  two  Generals 
under  the  trees  there  in  private  consultation;  I  did  not 
intrude  myself;  being  very  tired,  I  lay  down  for  a  little 
rest,  intending  to  report  to  Jackson  when  he  had  separated 
from  Lee.  I  soon  fell  asleep,  and  when  I  awoke  the 
apparition  of  the  two  Generals  had  disappeared,  as  if  I 
had  dreamed  it  as  I  slept  there. 


ITS  ON"  THE  WAR-PATH. 

"I  roused  myself,  looked  about  me,  but  could  not  see 
Jackson;  finding  upon  inquiry  that  he  was  lying  down 
near  by,  I  quietly  crept  up  to  him,  not  desiring  to  dis- 
turb him  if  asleep.  I  found  him  lying  on  a  blanket,  his 
head  resting  on  a  saddle.  My  approach  seemed  to  rouse 
him,  and,  noticing  him  move,  I  spoke  gently,  simply 
announcing  my  return.  Calling  me  up  to  him,"  and  here 
the  Doctor's  eyes  filled  with  tears,  his  voice  tremulous 
with  emotion  as  he  continued:  "the  General  bade  me 
sit  down  by  him,  putting  his  arms  about  me,  and  drawing 
me  to  him,  as  if  I  were  his  own  boy,  he  said,  kindly:  '  It's 
too  bad  that  all  you  boys  allowed  that  battery  to  annoy 
your  old  General  so  much.'  lie  asked  a  few  questions  as 
to  my  work  during  the  evening,  and  in  a  most  feeling 
manner,  bade  me  good-night,  without  saying  a  word  of 
to-morrow.  I  left  him  and  lay  down  myself  near  by, 
sleeping  soundly  until  awakened  late  in  the  morning  by 
the  clinking  and  clattering  of  canteens  and  arms,  and  the 
hushed  voices  of  the  troops  of  Jackson's  Corps,  who  were 
filing  down  this  furnace  road  to  the  left,  on  their  way  to 
the  great  flank  attack  that  was  soon  to  be  delivered  on  the 
rear  of  the  11  th  Corps.  General  Jackson  had  disap- 
peared, and  when  I  next  saw  him  it  was  after  he  was 
wounded." 

I  could  not  help  thinking  to  myself  that  the  services 
of  one  good  scout,  that  Hooker  so  indifferently  regarded, 
could  easily  have  discovered  and  reported  that  stragetjc 
movement  in  time  to  have  prevented  the  disaster  that  fol- 
lowed. I  do  not  mention  it  egotistically,  but  it  has  often 
occurred  to  me  that  the  neglected  scout  has  done  service 


OK  THE  WAR-PATH.  179 

alone  equal  to  that  of  an  army  corps,  the  generals  appro- 
priating all  the  credit,  as  clue  to  their  '-strategy."  This 
re-opening  of  the  wounds,  in  discussing  the  manner  of 
Jackson's  death  is  not  agreeable;  it  is  prompted  by  a  very 
general  interest  in  that  distinguished  Confederate  chief- 
tain, whom  General  Grant  has  referred  to  as  the  "  Have- 
lock  of  the  Confederacy."  Perhaps  a  better  comparison 
may  be  made  with  the  late  English  General  Gordon.  For 
some  unaccountable  reason  the  Southern  people  generally, 
and  of  course  their  historians,  prefer  to  have  the  statement 
remain  undisputed  that  Jackson  was  killed  by  accidental 
fire  from  his  own  troops.  The  significant  feature  about 
any  attempted  discussion  of  Jackson's  death,  is  that,  with 
singular  unanimity,  the  intelligent  Confederates  desire  to 
avoid  any  agitation  of  this  matter.  This  over-cautious 
manner  impressed  itself  so  strikingly  on  my  mind,  that  it 
served  to  arouse  my  curiosity,  and  I  began  to  wonder  if 
there  might  be  anything  to  conceal  on  the  part  of  Con- 
federates about  the  death  of  their  great  chieftain. 

During  a  stay  of  some  six  weeks  in  Fredericksburg,  I 
came  in  pleasant  contact  with  a  number  of  ex-Confeder- 
ates, and  I  took  every  occasion  to  broach  the  subject,  and 
nearly  all  conversation  tended  to  corroborate  the  state- 
ment of  the  fatal  shot  having  come  from  the  Fed- 
erals. In  a  word,  the  testimony  of  Confederates  may  be 
summed  up  as  follows:  "  I  wouldn't  for  the  world  have 
any  one  know  that  I  said  so,  but,  confidentially,  I  always 
believed  that  Jackson  was  killed  by  your  men."  There 
are  many  Virginians,  of  course,  who  doggedly  insist  that 
the  North  Carolinians  killed  their  general  because  he  had 


180  ON  THE   WAK-FATH. 

ordered  them  to  fire  on  any  one  coining  to  their  front.  My 
breath  was  almost  taken  by  the  surprise  occasioned  upon 
receiving  instructions  as  a  newspaper  scout  to  investigate 
some  rumors  that  "  Stonewall"  Jackson  committed  suicide 
by  deliberately  placing  himself  between  the  two  fires,  in 
the  manner  already  described.  This  was  a  new  idea.  The 
question  is  an  important  one  in  some  respects.  It  will  be 
seen  that  historians  have  been  in  error  as  to  the  manner 
of  Jackson's  death.  There  seems,  therefore,  a  possibility 
for  the  suspicion  that  the  cause  of  his  death  may  not  yet  have 
been  properly  explained.  I  wish  it  distinctly  understood 
that,  in  recording  this  matter,  I  am  in  no  sense  ventilat- 
ing my  own  personal  opinions,  nor  flying  any  decisions. 
As  a  matter  of  fact,  I  am  strongly  prejudiced  against  the 
theory  of  Jackson  having  wilfully  and  deliberately  courted 
death.  All  know  that  Jackson  was  a  conscientious  and 
devout  Christian  believer,  yea,  almost  a  religious  fanatic, 
and  no  one  will  for  a  moment  believe  that  he  would,  with 
his  own  hand,  have  committed  such  an  act.  I  desire  to 
present  some  facts  wholly  from  Confederate  sources  of  a 
most  reliable  character,  so  that  each  may  form  his  own 
conclusions.  The  first  question  that  naturally  arises  in 
the  mind  of  everyone  will  be  as  to  the  motive  that  would 
induce  a  popular  and  successful  general  to  commit  such 
an  act. 

There  is  a  great  deal  of  the  inside  history  of  the  Con- 
federate States  that  has  not  been  permitted  to  come  to 
light.  They  were  not  a  band  of  brothers  fighting  for  their 
homes  during  the  war — though  they  are  "solid"  for  each 
other  since — but  had  pretty  much  of  the  same  sort  of  bick- 


OX   THE   WAR-PATH.  181 

erings,  intrigues  and  jealousies  amongst  themselves  that 
were  popularly  supposed  to  exist  only  in  our  armies,  or 
between  the  army  and  the  War  Department.  Jefferson 
Davis  and  his  Jewish  Secretary  of  War  were  probably  as 
severe  in  some  directions  as  was  Mr.  Stanton.  It  is  pretty 
well  known  that  there  was  a  great  deal  of  friction  and  bit- 
ter personal  feeling  between  the  extreme  Southern  soldiers 
and  Virginia  "Yankees,"  as  they  termed  Virginia  Confed- 
erates. This  was  intensified  among  the  higher  army 
officers.  There  was  great  jealousy  on  the  part  of  some  dis- 
tinguished Georgia  generals  regarding  the  Virginia  gen- 
erals, and  especially  "  Stonewall"  Jackson.  When  in  Rich- 
mond I  saw  an  autograph  letter  from  "Stonewall"  Jackson, 
addressed  to  Governor  Letcher,  of  Virginia,  asking — yes, 
demanding — to  be  relieved  of  his  command  and  returned 
to  the  Virginia  Military  Institute. 

A  satisfactory  explanation  of  Jackson's  putting  him- 
self deliberately  between  two  fires  on  a  dark  night  has  not 
yet  been  given,  except  upon  the  impossible  hypothesis  that 
he  did  not  know  what  he  was  about.  It  may  be  asked  if 
he  courted  death,  why  did  he  not  satisfy  himself  at  the 
head  of  his  troops  leading  a  charge?  The  answer  would  be 
that  he  would  shrink  from  such  an  attempt  to  dramatically 
end  his  military  career,  besides  his  conscientious  scruples 
would  not  permit  him  to  slaughter  any  of  his  own  men  in 
such  a  vain  attempt  at  seeking  glory  for  himself. 

Another  feature  not  fairly  understood  is  that  Jackson's 
wounds  were  not  necessarily  fatal.  He  received  two  shots 
on  one  arm  and  a  slight  flesh  wound  on  the  hand  of  the 
other  arm.  That  was  all.  He  did  not  die  from  the  effects 


182  ON   THE   AVAR-PATH. 

of  his  -wounds,  but  against  the  well-known  advice  of  Ids 
surgeon  ;  and  in  the  absence  of  the  latter,  he  again  deliber- 
ately exposed  himself  to  almost  certain  death,  aggravating 
his  condition  by  compelling  a  negro  servant  to  wet  a 
blanket  in  cold  water  and  lay  it'over  him.  This  deliberate 
act  was  more  fatal  than  the  wounds  received  by  his  former 
exposure,  and  caused  his  death  from  pleurisy.  It  is  said 
he  was  semi-conscious  shortly  before  his  death  ;  Dr. 
Smith,  who  was  with  him,  reports  his  last  words:  "Let  us 
cross  over  the  river  and  rest  under  those  trees." 

As  indicating  some  of  Gen.  Jackson's  movements  imme- 
diately preceding  his  death,  I  will  quote  only  the  observa- 
tions of  distinguished  Confederates.  Perhaps  one  of  the 
most  popular  citizens  of  Spottsylvania  Co.,  Va.,  is  Mr. 
John  Ilayden,  familiarly  known  in  that  county  as  "Uncle 
Jack."  He  is  a  well-to-do  old  Virginia  farmer,  whose 
jolly  greeting  and  hearty  welcome  to  Federal  visitors  to 
Fredericksburg  has  endeared  him  to  many  of  the  Yankees, 
as  he  still  calls  everybody  who  hails  from  north  of  Mason 
and  Dixon's  line.  He  is  one  of  the  most  interesting  war 
relics  and  valuable  witnesses  in  the  discussion  of  war 
matters  occurring  in  this  vicinity.  It  was  on  his  farm, 
located  on  the  south  side  of  United  States  ford,  that  our 
army  bivouaced,  after  crossing  the  Rappahannock.  His 
name  has  not  heretofore  appeared  in  any  of  the  histories 
of  the  war,  but  it  is  doubtful  if  any  one  person,  outside  of 
Lee  and  Jackson  themselves,  bore  so  important  a  part  in 
the  movement  that  brought  about  our  defeat  at  Chancellors- 
ville,  as  did  Uncle  Jack.  He  was  Jackson's  guide,  as  well 
as  the  trusted  pilot  of  General  Lee.  He  was  born  and 


ON   THE    WAR-PATH.  183 

raised  on  the  farm  adjoining  Chancellorsville,  and  us  he 
says  in  reply  to  a  question  as  to  his  familiarity  with  the 
country:  "Yes,  sah,  when  I  was  a  boy  I  hunted  deer  in 
them  woods,  and  I  know  every  hog  path  in  the  country." 
He  is  one  of  those  old-fashioned,  honest-speaking  men 
whose  blunt,  straight-forward  words  would  tell  before  a 
jury.  When  I  jokingly  observed  before  a  crowd  of  Fed- 
eral visitors  that  it  was  his  fault  that  we  were  whipped  at 
Chancellorsville,  because  he  showed  Jackson  around  the 
back  way  and  caught  the  llth  Corps  napping,  and  sug- 
gested to  some  of  the  boys  that  he  ought  to  be  hung  yet 
for  it,  he  thumped  me  on  the  shoulders,  spread  his  legs, 
and  protruded  his  bay-window  belly:  "  I  have  done  the  very 
best  I  could,  sah,  agin  you  all,  but  we  didn't  catch  you 
all  napping  ;  they  was  cooking  dinner  ;  they  had  their 
guns  all  pointed  the  other  way,  so  we  went  in  the  back 
gate,  sah."  When  I  threatened  to  put  his  photograph  in 
a  book  with  an  account  of  his  being  the  man  who  stam- 
peded the  llth  Ccrps  and  was  responsible  for  killing  so 
many  Yankees,  he  retorted  with  emphasis  :  "  I  never  killed 
nary  a  one,  they  all  run  away,  but  I  will  kill  one  if  you  tell 
any  Yankee  lies  on  me  in  a  book;  now,  sah,  jist  you  mind 
that."  Uncle  Jack  says  of  Jackson  the  day  preceding  the 
battle : 

"  General  Jackson  sent  for  me  that  mawning  and  when 
I  got  to  his  tent  he  was  off  some  place  but  had  left  orders 
for  me  to  wait.  The  little  man  never  forgot  his  engage- 
ments. " 

"Was  Jackson  little?  Why,  I  always  thought  him  a 
big,  lank  man.  " 


184  OX   THE    WAR-PATH. 

"  Well,  you  Yankees  all  thought  him  a  giant,  I  reckon, 
but  he  was  no  bigger  than  you  are,  and  you  are  a  mighty 
trifling-looking  Yankee  too.  "Well,  when  the  General 
came  back  I  was  surprised  to  see  him  all  dressed  up  in  his 
full  uniform.  I  had  seen  Jackson  often,  but  this  is  the  only 
time  that  I  ever  saw  him  wearing  his  full  uniform,  and  I 
thought  it  mighty  queer,  and  some  of  the  rest  of  them 
was  talking  about  something  going  to  happen.  He  told 
me  he  wanted  me  to  watch  that  ford  by  the  road,  and  to 
be  sure  and  report  to  him  if  the  enemy  made  an  appear- 
ance at  a  certain  point.  lie  then  asked  me  how  many  cav- 
alrymen I  wanted  to  carry  the  news.  I  told  him  two  would 
do.  <Xo,'  he  says,  '  I  want  you  to  send  two  couriers,' 
as  he  called  them,  'every  hour  to  report  direct  to  me.  I 
will  give  you  twelve  men  subject  to  your  orders,'  and  he 
did.  After  the  General  had  finished  his  talking  to  me  I 
turned  to  come  away,  but  I  began  to  think  it  so  queer 
about  his  being  all  dressed  up  that  way  that  I  turned  back 
and  said  to  him  in  a  familiar  plain  way — something  I 
would  never  have  thought  of  doing  if  I  had  not  been  sort 
of  impressed  by  his  appearance:  'General  Jackson,  you 
have  given  me  my  orders  and  now  I  am  going  to  give  you 
yours.'  He  was  just  getting  on  his  horse  and  had  one 
boot  in  the  stirrup.  He  looked  sort  of  funny  at  me  as  he 
put  his  foot  down  and  turned  to  me,  expecting,  I  reckon, 
that  I  had  something  important  to  say.  I  was  scared,  but 
bound  to  go  ahead,  and  said  simply,  but  I  reckon  he  saw 
I  meant  it  kindly:  'General,  you  must  take  care  of  your- 
self to-day.'  He  reached  out  his  hand  and  thanked  me 
without  saying  another  W9rd,  and  in  a  moment  more  was 


ON  THE 'WAR-PATH.  185 

on  his  horse  and  rode  off,  and  I  never  saw  him  again.  I 
always  thought  he  knew  he  was  going  to  die  then.  "  Mr. 
Harden  is  a  man  of  unimpeachable  character,  who  is  easily 
accessible  to  the  visitors  toFredericksburg,  and  will  confirm 
this  statement  and  perhaps  give  further  interesting  infor- 
mation about  Jackson's  last  battle.  I  may  be  permitted, 
as  a  Union  scout,  to  observe  here,  that  to  the  Confederate 
scouts  and  guides — and  they  were  numerous  and  zealous — 
is  due  much  of  the  glory  achieved  by  Lee  and  Jackson  on 
Virginia  soil.  This  one  man  was  as  valuable  as  an  army 
corps  of  observation.  All  their  natives  became  guides  and 
scouts  and  worked  in  comparative  security  in  their  own 
country.  As  a  Union  scout,  I,  for  one,  worked  alone 
among  strangers  in  a  strange  land  and  among  enemies. 

I  cannot  close  this  lecture  on  "  Stonewall  "  Jackson, 
without  submitting  the  testimony  of  another  distinguished 
ex-Confederate,  bearing  on  Jackson's  earlier  views  of  his 
own  end  and  that  of  the  war.  Professor  E.  S.  Dabney,  of 
the  University  of  Texas  at  Austin,  says:  "During  the 
Valley  campaign  and  that  around  Richmond  in  1862  I  was 
General  Jackson's  Chief -of-staff.  His  prudent  reserve  was 
noted;  it  was  such  that  he  never  disclosed  anything  of  his 
own  military  designs  except  the  necessary  orders  to  his 
Chief-of-staff,  or  even  to  his  Major-General  next  in  com- 
mand, and  he  was  chary  of  expressing  to  them  his  thoughts 
on  the  general  conduct  of  the  war.  I  was  selected,  not 
by  myself — not  having  taken  up  the  faintest  idea  of  such 
an  attempt — but  by  General  Jackson's  family,  to  write  his 
biography.  I  sought  the  help  of  all  suitable  documents 
which  the  family  possessed.  All  help  which  was  allowed 


18G  ON'    THE    WAK-PATII. 

me  I  employed  diligently  and  faithfully.  It  scarcely 
need  be  said  that  I  am  not  responsible  for  such  as  were 
withheld.  On  the  18th  day  of  May,  18G2,  I  was  riding 
alone  with  the  General  along  the  valley  of  Mossy  Creek  in 
Augusta  county,  to  visit  the  bivouac  of  the  famous 
Twelfth  Georgia  regiment  in  our  front.  He  was,  Avhat 
was  rare  witli  him,  in  the  mood  to  converse  with  me.  Our 
thoughts  traveled  naturally  npon  the  prospect  of  our 
struggle.  Encouraged  by  him,  I  expressed  my  own  con- 
clusions with  the  unreserve  perhaps  of  indiscretion  of 
one  of  those  citizen  soldiers  whom  Jackson  thought  so 
well  of;  I  said  that  the  manner  adopted  by  the  Confeder- 
ate government  for  conducting  the  war,  filled  me  with 
apprehension.  The  Government,  dominated  by  the  tech- 
nicalities of  We.st  Point  and  of  professional  soldiering, 
seemed  to  forget  what  was  needed  in  a  revolutionary  war 
such  as  ours.  They  were  relying  npon  routine  methods 
good  for  standing  mercenary  armies,,  but  inappropriate  to 
our  circumstances.  In  this  species  of  tactics  the  ene- 
my's superior  numbers  and  riches,  backed  by  Europe, 
would  in  the  end  beat  us.  The  longer  the  catastrophe  of 
war  was  delayed  the  more  we  should  lose  of  the  martial 
spirit  of  our  gentry  and  yoemanry;  mere  drill  carried  to 
completeness  would  replace  their  clan;  that  a  defensive 
war  would  be  sure  to  wear  us  out  and  crush  us  in  the  end. 
He  replied  by  reminding  me  of  how  much  had  been  done 
by  the  Confederate  government  in  the  first  year  in  creat- 
ing resources  and  armies,  spoke  of  the  victories  already 
gained,  hopefully,  and  of  the  kindness  of  the  good  Provi- 
dence in  which  he  believed.  I  proceeded  to  further  argue 


ON"   THE    WAR-PATH.  187 

my  apprehensions,  when  he  turned  himself  toward  me  in 
the  saddle  and  said  with  a  smile,  more  sad  than  cheerful: 
'  Stop,  Major  Dabney,  you  make  me  low  spirited.'  I  of 
course  ceased,  with  an  apology  for  my  insistance.  After 
riding  in  silence  for  twenty  paces  he  said  with  an  air  and 
atone  of  profound  seriousness:  'Well,  I  do  not  profess 
any  romantic  sentiments  as  to  the  vanity  of  life.  Cer- 
tainly no  man  has  more  that  should  make  life  dear  to  him 
than  I  have  in  the  relations  and  affection  of  my  home, 
but  I  do  not  desire  to  survive  the  independence  of  my 
country/" 


CHAPTER  IX. 

r*E  will  drive  into  Washington  via  Manassas. 

ffi 

The  trains  coming  up  from  the  South  sev- 
eral times  a  day  would  take  us  direct  from 
Fredericksburg  to  Washington  in  less  than  two  hours,  but 
we  shall  be  all  day  on  the  road.  It  will  be  remembered 
that  during  the  war,  and  for  some  years  subsequent,  the 
railroad  only  extended  to  the  Potomac  ten  or  twelve  miles 
beyond,  where  transfers  were  made  to  the  boats,  at  Aquia 
creek. 

Now,  the  abandoned  roadbed  from  Brooks  Station  to 
Aquia  is  used  as  a  wagon  road.  Nearly  all  the  soldiers 
were  camped  convenient  to  this  line  of  road,  upon  which 
we  depended  for  supplies;  and,  by  the  way,  in  all  the  vo- 
luminous war  literature,  scarcely  any  mention  is  made  of 
the  military  railroaders,  one  of  the  most  important  auxil- 
iaries to  the  armies.  The  value  of  their  services  in  con- 
nection with  our  military  movements  is  indisputable.  But 
there  is  no  record  in  the  archives  of  the  country  of  their 
indispensable  aid,  except,  perhaps,  such  as  may  be  found 
occasionally  in  the  beggarly  mention  in  the  official  reports 
of  the  generals  who  profited  by  the  hard-working  and  ever- 
faithful  civilian  railroader. 

These  gentlemen  do  not  even  have  the  satisfaction  of 
having  their  names  on  record  with  those  who  served  their 
country  in  time  of  need. 

As  a  rule,  the  survivors  of  the  military  railroaders  and 

188 


OK  THE  WAR-PATH.  189 

telegraphers  have  become  gentlemen  of  prominence  since 
the  war,  and,  in  a  large  manner,  represent  the  officials  of 
the  two  great  interests,  i.  e.,  railroads  and  telegraphs. 
Indeed,  to  attempt  to  name  them  would  be  like  reproduc- 
ing an  official  railway  and  telegraph  directory. 

There  is  probably  not  a  railroad  or  telegraph  company 
that  does  not  contain  on  its  roll  of  employes  some  of  these 
war  workers.  If  an  engineer,  conductor,  brakeman  or 
bridge-builder  is  occasionally  met  whose  head  is  silvered 
with  gray,  it  is  pretty  safe  to  assume  that  he  served  on 
some  of  the  military  railways  during  the  war. 

If  you  question  such  an  "old  man,"it  is  probable  that 
he  can  tell  you  more  correctly  about  the  movements  in  the 
field  of  certain  troops  than  the  soldiers  who  served  in  the 
ranks. 

He  will  tell  you  that  they  rebuilt  the  roads  as  fast  as 
the  enemy  destroyed  them. 

It  is  a  truth  well  known  to  soldiers  in  the  field  that 
the  whistle  of  a  locomotive  was  one  of  the  most  agreeable 
"sounds  from  home" — it  either  brought  us  more  rein- 
forcements, letters,  s.  o.  b.,  or  perhaps  carried  off  the 
dead. 

It  should  be  remembered  that  the  very  first  persons  to  re- 
spond to  the  call  of  Mr.  Lincoln  was  not  the  Massachusetts 
regiment,  as  is  stated  in  history,  but  Col.  Thomas  A.  Scott, 
of  the  Pennsylvania  railroad,  with  his  corps  of  railroaders, 
who  rebuilt  the  Baltimore  and  Ohio  railroad,  which  had 
been  destroyed  by  the  Eebels,  and  operated  it,  as  a  govern- 
ment institution,  upon  which  were  carried,  not  only  the 
first,  but  all  the  troops  that  came  to  Washington.  These 


100  OX    TIIK    WAR-PATH. 

gentlemen  arc  not  eligible  to  comradeship  in  the  ft.  A.  ft., 
they  are  not  accorded  even  associate  or  honory  membership 
in  that  organization  as  arc  Women's  Relief  Corps,  etc. ; 
while  mule-whackers,  hospital  pimps,  servants,  etc.,  who 
happened  to  be  sworn  in  some  place,  so  they  would  be  en- 
titled to  bounty  or  substitute  money,  may  become  leaders 
in  the  G.  A.  II.  But  my  purpose  is  not  to  discuss  the 
question  here,  simply  desiring  to  call  attention  to  the  neg- 
lect. Wonder  grows  into  amazement  that  such  continuous 
service  during  all  the  trying  times  of  the  war,  night  and 
day,  cold  or  wet,  of  these  men,  often  working  in  the  front 
and  under  fire,  should  have  been  so  long  unrecognized. 
"Are  Republics  ungrateful?" 

Our  route  takes  us  through  Falmouth,  which,  by  the 
way,  looks  precisely  as  old  and  dilapidated  as  during  the 
war.  This  i^  one  of  the  earliest  Virginia  settlements,  was 
at  one  time  a  port  of  entry  at  the  head  of  navigation,  just 
below  the  falls  of  the  Rappahannock.  Vessels  of  consider- 
able draught  were  here  loaded  with  tobacco  which  was  the 
staple  crop  of  this  section. 

Every  one  who  has  traveled  this  road  will  remember 
the  hill  just  back  of  Falmouth,  from  which  the  first  view 
is  had  of  the  distant  steeples  of  Fredericksburg,  and  the 
Marye's  Heights  in  the  background. 

Certainly  none  of  the  survivors  of  the  army  who 
marched  along  this  road  with  Burnsideon  that  dreary  No- 
vember morning  of  18G3  will  forget  the  scene. 

I  will  not  attempt  a  pen  description  of  it.  On  this 
buggy  ride,  I  was  accompanied  by  an  accomplished  young 
artist,  Mr.  Willie  Hazard,  of  Fredericksburg,  who 


Otf  THE   AVAR-PATH.  191 

"sketched'*  points  as  I  desired,  with  pencil,  while  I 
'•'sketched"  others  by  taking  observations  through  the 
lens  of  my  camera.  I  believe  that  I  have  already  confessed 
to  being  an  amature  photo  crank. 

From  this  point  we  obtained  several  fine  views  that 
almost  any  soldier  who  has  been  there  will  recognize.  It 
was  the  original  purpose  to  include  these  sketches  as  illus- 
trations; but,  finding  it  impracticable,  from  their  great 
number  and  variety,  I  have  collected  them  into  a  portfolio 
or  sketch-book  of  War-path  views.  If  any  member  of  the 
club  should  desire  any  of  these,  they  can  be  supplied  sep- 
arately. 

The  morning  of  our  departure  for  Gettysburg  happened 
to  occur  on  the  same  date  on  which  the  Headquarters 
Army  of  the  Potomac  started,  when  this  country  was  a 
quarter  of  a  century  younger.  I  rode  on  that  occasion 
with  the  staff,  and  in  this  drive  endeavored  to  follow,  if 
possible,  precisely  the  same  path  we  traveled  then  over 
which  I  am  now  attempting  to  act  as  your  guide. 

As  long  as  we  kept  to  the  public  highway  it  was  plain 
sailing;  but  in  attempting  to  find  short  cuts  to  Germania, 
United  States,  Beverly,  and  other  once-familiar  fords  on 
the  Upper  Rappahannock,  we  invariably  got  lost  and 
became  tangled  up,  under  our  feet  as  well  as  in  our 
recollection,  by  the  new  and  almost  dense  growth  of  your>g 
pines  and  scrub  oak  which  has  sprung  up  to  replace  that 
which  our  troops  cut  down  for  corduroy  roads,  fuel,  or, 
perhaps,  as  a  clearing  for  artillery.  The  oldest  inhabitant 
of  Prince  William  and  Stafford,  which  are  the  counties  we 
are  now  traversing,  account  for  the  general  poverty  of  the 


192  OK   THE   WAR-PATH. 

soil  as  well  as  that  of  the  very  few  farmers  that  occupy  it, 
by  the  explanation  that  the  early  cultivation  of  tobacco  in 
this  section  robbed  it  of  its  strength.  The  weed  was 
extensively  raised  in  all  this  region  as  long  ago  as  fifty 
years  to  the  exclusion  of  most  everything  else. 

Slaves  were,  of  coiirse,  the  only  labor  employed,  and  it 
is  said  that  the  vessels  that  ascended  the  llappahaunock  to 
Falmouth,  or  the  Potomac  to  Dunfries  and  Alexandria, 
brought  all  the  supplies  for  these  plantations  and  took  off 
the  entire  product.  Nothing  being  done  to  fertilize  or 
feed  the  soil,  it  was,  when  exhausted,  abandoned  and  new 
fields  opened  up,  which,  by  the  Avay,  is  "looking  back- 
ward" to  the  days  of  free  trade. 

Wherever  pine  or  cedar  trees  are  growing  now  is  said  to 
indicate  that  the  ground  so  covered  was  at  one  time  a 
tobacco  plantation.  So  that  it  will  be  seen  that  the  cav- 
aliers themselves  first  outraged  the  virgin  soil  of  fair  Vir- 
ginia that  has  since  been  devastated  by  the  tread  of  the 
armies. 

Slavery  and  tobacco  were  the  greater  curse.  An  old 
soldier  whom  I  met  walking  disconsolately  over  the 
Stafford  hills,  looking  around  as  if  he  were  hunting  some 
landmarks  or  stakes,  pointed  to  what  looked  as  if  it  might 
have  once  been  a  cellar  under  a  log  house,  told  this  story 
about  it:  "No,  it's  not  a  cellar,  but  it  was  once  intended 
as  a  powder  magazine  or  a  storehouse  for  ammunition  for 
the  reserve  artillery  packed  down  there. 

"  It  was  a  sort  of  dug-out  on  the  hillside,  lined  with 
logs  and  roofed  with  the  same;  over  this  was  thrown  about 
a  foot  of  dirt,  then  sodded;  a  little  box  pipe  about  four  by 


ON    THE    WAR-PATH.  193 

six,  looking  like  a  chimney,  was  run  through  as  a  ventila- 
tor.    At  one  gable  was  the  entrance,   protected  by   two 
heavy  doors,  allowing  a  sort  of  vestibule  between  them. 
These  were,  of  course,  strongly  barred  and  locked.     The 
whole  affair  was  as  strong  as  logs  and  earthwork  could  make 
it,  not  only  fire-proof,  but  bomb-proof,  and  supposed  to  be 
burglar-proof  and  soldier-proof,  yet  I  can  prove  to  you  that 
a  couple  of  us  gota  barrel  of  whisky  out  of  it  one  night  with- 
out opening  the  doors  at  all."    This  looks  like  an  interesting 
puzzle  that  I'd  like  the  club  to  propound  to  any  old  soldier 
who  ever  saw  abomb-proof.    "Well/'  he  continued,  f'they 
found  it  was  too  damp  for  the  storage  of  ammunition,  so 
permission  was  given  to  the  head   sutler  to  use  it  as  a 
storehouse   for  his  supplies.     You  know  the  boys  would 
steal  from   the   sutlers;    in  fact,   they  would  openly  raid 
them   for  whisky,  and  it  was   thought  this   bomb-proof 
would  be  an  absolute  protection,  with  its  long  roofs  and 
double  doors  and  locks  and  bolts.    Well,  one  day  a  couple  of 
us   were   helping   the  sutler  to  store  his  goods  in   here; 
among  the  rest  was  a  barrel  of  whisky,  branded  'vinegar.' 
We  were  wild  for  a  chance  at  that  'vinegar'  barrel;  but, 
of  course,  it  seemed  like  barring  us  out  forever  to  have  it 
rolled  in  to  this  cave;  we  knew  the  officers  would  soon  use 
it  up.     There  being  no  light  at  all,  except  from  the  open 
door,  the  little  hole  through   the  ventilator  significantly 
cast  a  ray  of  light,  and  at  the  same  time  of  hope,  by  its 
little  reflection  on  the  ground  below.     It  gave  me  an  idea. 
Without  even  telling  my  chums  that  I  had  been  struck  by 
an  idea,  I  managed  in  the  general  handling  of  the  stuff  to 
have  that  barrel  of  vinegar  set  on  end  over  the  spot  where 


194  ON    THE   •VVAR- 

the  light  was  shown  and  directly  under  the  little  ventila- 
tor. When  we  finished  our  work,  the  doors  were  both 
closed,  locked  and  bolted,  and  the  boss  sutler  put  the  key 
in  his  pocket,  went  off  with  a  feeling  of  perfect  confidence 
in  the  safety  of  his  goods. 

"  The  *  idea/  however,  began  to  work  on  me;  and,  at  the 
first  opportunity,  I  explained  my  plan  of  attack  to  two  or 
three  comrades.  We  got  a  piece  of  light  rope,  and  stole 
an  elongated  rifled  eight-pound  shell  from  the  ammunition 
chest.  The  rope  was  tied  to  it  like  a  sinker,  so  that  the 
percussion  cap  faced  up. 

"After  dark  one  of  the  boys  was  put  on  guard  to  pre- 
vent a  surprise,  another  climbed  to  the  apex  of  the  little 
mound  of  a  roof,  knocked  off  the  broad  cap  over  the  ven- 
tilator, let  down  his  shell  as  a  feeler  for  the  barrel  and 
being  satisfied  that  it  was  plumb  under  him,  it  was  drawn 
to  the  top  again  and  dropped  onto  the  head  of  the  barrel  of 
vinegar." 

"Great  Scott, "said  I,  "What  if  the  percussion  end 
had  gone  down  first?" 

"Why,  it  was  a  bomb-proof,  wasn't  it?  " 

That  was  so. 

"  Well,  we  let  that  thing  pound  away  till  finally  she 
went  through  the  head,  into  the  vinecjar  Then  the  shell 
was  withdrawn  and  in  its  place  we  substituted  a  big  horse 
sponge;  to  the  bottom  of  this  we  loaded  some  small  shot, 
as  sinkers;  this  was  let  down  into  the  vinegar,  drawn  up 
and  squeezed  out  into  a  bucket,  and  so  on  till  we  got  so 
drunk  that  it  was  given  away,  and  others  got  onto  it;  so 
the  whisky  was  extracted  from  that  barrel  without  open- 


ON  THE   WAR-PATH.  195 

ing  the  door.  If  the  boys  had  not  become  so  hilarious, 
they.never  would  have  found  out  how  it  was  done,  either." 

It  would  be  difficult  to  find  in  Virginia  a  more  unin- 
teresting and  tiresome  drive  than  that  which  we  are 
following,  over  what  is  termed  the  "hill-road,"  between 
Falmouth  and  Manassas.  The  country  is  poor  in  every 
respect,  sparsely  populated  by  a  class  of  small  farmers  that 
the  traveler  might  imagine  to  be  the  remnants  of  what  we 
have  heard  the  Southern  people  call,  "Poor  "Whites." 
The  few  fences  and  buildings  show  a  neglected,  almost 
abandoned,  appearance;  no  attempt  is  made  to  keep  the 
roads  in  repair,  as  there  is  but  little  use  of  it,  the  people 
seldom  going  away  from  their  homes,  as  we  judged  by 
their  general  ignorance  as  to  where  the  roads  that  passed 
their  doors  led.  No  correct  idea  of  distance  could  be 
gained  by  inquiries,  as  we  soon  learned  by  the  contra- 
dictory answers  we  received.  We  amused  ourselves,  how- 
ever, by  interviewing  every  person  we  came  across,  as  to  the 
distance  to  Manassas,  merely  as  a  study  of  the  effects  such 
isolation  might  show  on  the  minds  of  the  different  types 
of  character  we  encountered.  In  not  a  single  instance  did 
any  two  of  a  large  number  we  questioned,  agree,  the 
differences  in  most  instances  being  so  great  as  to  stagger  a 
stranger  not  familiar  with  their  primitive  methods  of 
computing  distances  from  other  worlds  they  have  heard  of. 

In  bad  weather  the  roads  become  almost  impassable,  so 
that,  in  one  sense,  the  length  of  a  journey  depended  on  the 
time  of  the  year  it  was  begun. 

The  old  soldiers  who  footed  it  along  here  during  all 
seasons  and  sleeping  in  pup-tents  at  night,  and  for  days 


190  ON"  THE   WAR-PATH. 

carrying  in  their  haversacks  an  assortment  of  family 
groceries  in  the  shape  of  four  days'  rations,  and  on  their 
shoulders  a  gun  that  would  get  as  heavy  as  a  cannon, 
retain  a  lively  recollection  of  the  cohesive  tendency  of  this 
sacred  soil.  Those  were  times  that  tried  men's  "soles." 

The  Virginia  mud  was  as  great  a  factor  in  the  favor  of 
the  Confederates  as  an  army  corps,  they  being  on  the 
defensive  remained  comparatively  passive,  while  we  were 
obliged  to  make  all  the  movements.  It  is  well-known 
that  many  golden  opportunities  were  lost  because  of  the 
mud  that  held  us  fast  in  its  miry '  grip,  or  made  the 
attempted  movement  so  difficult  that  they  were  easily  in 
position  to  check-mate  it. 

Not  even  the  "  Army  of  Observation "  of  Lee,  com- 
prising the  numerous  men,  women  and  children,  amongst 
whom  we  lived  and  moved  and  had  our  being,  were  more 
beneficial  to  the  Confederates  than  the  tenacious  Virginia 
mud.  Burnside's  stick-in-the-mud  campaign  is  only  one 
instance  of  its  efficiency. 

My  artist  companion  succeeded  in  "catching"  on  his 
sketch-book  several  "types,"  but  these  represent  your 
guide  as  interlocutor  in  such  ludicrous  poses  that  they  are 
not  offered  for  exhibition,  though  very  funny. 

Like  most  artists,  Mr.  Hazard  sang  well;  after  I  dis- 
covered this  accomplishment,  the  remainder  of  the  tire- 
some journey  was  made  pleasant.  We  sang  not  only  "  the 
songs  we  used  to  sing,"  but  I  believe  we  tried  everything 
that  we  had  ever  heard. 

Our  repertoire  was  quite  extensive;  the  free  matinee 
the  country  people  along  the  road  had  that  day  no  doubt 


O^T   THE   WAR-PATH.  197 

astonished  them.  We  made  Rome  howl  sure  enough,  our 
only  audience  the  lonely  trees  and  the  old  hills  which 
indeed  applauded  us  to  the  very  echo. 

Probably  there  is  nothing  that  will  so  quickly  awaken 
the  bitter  sweet  memories  of  old  soldiers,  that  now  slum- 
ber, as  to  hear  some  of  the  old  songs  at  such  a  place. 
I  wish  I  might  put  the  scene  before  you  while  the  ladies 
sing 

"  How  cruelly  sweet  are  the  echoes  that  start 
When  memory  plays  an  old  tune  on  the  heart." 

In  these  latter  days  an  immense  deal  of  "war  music" 
is  thrust  upon  an  uudiscriminating  public  at  the  G.  A.  R. 
gatherings  and  reunions,  as  if  patriotic  army  songs"  that  we 
used  to  sing.  No  person  can  appreciate  music  of  all  kinds 
more  than  myself;  but  the  insufferable  "rot "  dealt  out  to 
veterans  in  the  shape  of  war  poetry  set  to  music,  is  calcu- 
lated to  spoil  even  an  appetite  for  the  "  army  bean"  song. 
There  are  any  number  of  so-called  battle  hymns,  and  the 
"  flag"  is  smeared  all  over  with  doggerel.  I  would  like  to 
ask  any  genuine  soldier  if  he  ever  heard  a  battle  song  at 
the  front.  I  am  sure  that  I  never  did,  though  we  listened 
to  a  great  deal  of  really  fine  music  from  gifted  comrades  in 
camp  or  on  the  march.  . 

The  recollected  music  of  those  unforgotten  days  was 
not  generally  of  the  patriotic  character  one  would  imagine 
from  the  slush  we  hear  now-a-days.  It  was  rather  comic 
than  sad,  and  of  a  sentimental  character  not  at  all  patri- 
otic. The  music  most  familiar  to  the  old  soldier  was  the 
love  songs  of  that  day. 


198  OX   THE    WAR-PATH. 

"  We  sang  of  love,  and  not  of  fame. 

Forgot  our  country's  glory; 
Each  heart  recalled  a  different  name, 
But  we  all  sang  '  Annie  Laurie.' 

"  Voice  after  voice  took  up  the  strain, 

Until  its  tender  passion 
Rolled  like  an  anthem  o'er  the  plain 
Our  battle-eve  confession." 

"  Mother,  is  the  Battle  Over?"  seems  like  a  parody  to 
me,  and  I  am  sure  the  person  who  wrote  "Let  me  Kiss 
Him  for  his  Mother"  never  saw  a  dead  soldier,  or  he  would 
never  have  expressed  any  such  desire  in  poetry  and  music. 

"When  this  Cruel  War  is  Over"  was  a  popular  song  in 
camp;  while  "John  Brown's  Body"  was  sung  by  the  Zoo  Zoo 
regiments,  as  we  used  to  call  zouaves  on  their  fancy  parade, 
when  they  first  came  out. 

In  camp,  lying  upon  the  frozen  ground  or  snow, 
wrapped  in  a  blanket,  looking  through  the  leafless  trees  at 
a  clear  sky  and  a  Southern  moon,  knowing  that  an  army  of 
Rebels  were  our  bed-fellows,  and  not  knowing  what  to-mor- 
row would  bring  forth,  is  a  realistic  as  well  as  an  ellective 
scene  for  a  stage  setting;  a  manly  voice  ringing  out  from  a 
blanket  the  air  and  words  of  that  beautiful  old  song, 
"  Ever  of  thee  fondly  I'm  dreaming."  Many  that  listened 
to  it  dreamed,  perhaps,  for  the  last  time,  of  the  "gentle 
voice."  The  tones  had  scarcely  died  away,  when  the  bass 
voice  of  a  soldier  who,  though  some  distance  off,  had  heard 
the  other  song  broke  the  heavy  stillness  that  followed  by 
responding  with  that  other  pretty  old  war  song,  "Xo  one 
to  love,  none  to  caress,"  another  song,  "  Mary  of  Argyle," 
and  so  on  through  the  list  of  the  old  songs,  that  are  yet 
more  sweet  to  the  veteran  than  the  new  ones. 


ON    THE    WAR-PATH.  199 

I  knew  a  staff  officer  to  be  shot  from  his  horse  by 
guerillas,  which  infested  this  country  during  the  war, 
while  riding  along  leisurely  and  in  supposed  security  sing- 
ing "  Happy,  0  happy  be  thy  dreams." 

We  became  so  much  infatuated  with  our  own  music 
that  we  let  the  old  horse  have  his  own  way,  and  followed 
the  "main  road  "until  we  "found"  ourselves  "  lost "  in 
a  pine  woods.  Because  of  our  unsatisfactory  experience 
with  the  natives  in  getting  directions,  we  had  determined 
not  to  ask  another  question,  but,,  hoping  we  were  right, 
we  would  go  ahead  and  trust  to  luck  and  the  horse's  legs 
to  get  us  "some  place"  before  night.  We  had  serenaded 
several  houses  as  we  passed  along,  without  halting  for  the 
usual  quizzing.  It  was  getting  late  in  the  afternoon  when, 
coming  up  to  a  house  where  I  had  espied  a  young  lady,  I 
thought  it  advisable  to  jump  out  and  make  some  inquiries 
as  to  the  road.  Saying  to  my  companion,  "I'll  bet  a 
dollar  they  send  us  off  our  road,"  I  lifted  my  hat  in  the 
most  approved  dudish  style,  smiled  a  seductive  smile,  and, 
in  a  voice  full  of  tenderness  and  beer,  asked  the  distance 
to  Manassas.  "  It's  about  twenty  miles  from  here,  sah," 
said  she.  It  was  but  twenty-seven  when  we  started,  and 
we  had  been  going  steadily  nearly  all  day,  but  I  thought 
the  Virginia  miles  awfully  long,  and  made  some  observa- 
tion to  this  effect;  but,  my  companion  being  a  famous 
lady's  man,  discovering  me  in  conversation  with  a  lady,  at 
once  jumped  from  the  buggy  to  get  a  drink  of  water,  as 
he  said.  His  black  hair  and  pretty  brown  eyes  so  attracted 
the  attention  of  the  lady,  no  reply  was  made  to  me.  Just 
then  we  were  further  embarrassed  by  the  old  horse  walking 


200  OX   THE    WAR-PATH. 

off,  and  as  it  was  Hazard's  fault  and  his  legs  were  the 
longest,  he  hud  the  race,  while  we  laughed. 

The  fun  was  spoiled,  however,  by  the  intelligence  sub- 
sequently gained  that  we  had  been  singing  along  the  wrong 
road  all  afternoon,  and  were  at  that  time  nearer  to  Mount 
Vernon  on  the  Potomac  than  we  were  to  Manassas.  Instead 
of  keeping  almost  due  north,  we  had  veered  over  to  the 
right  and  left  the  Manassas  road. 

Hazard  wanted  to  stop  right  there  all  night,  but  I  was 
determined  to  get  to  the  battle-field.  After  some  confus- 
ing directions,  we  started  back  on  a  short-cut  road  through 
pine  woods,  that  had  been  made  by  men  hauling  ties  out. 
It  was  not  intended  for  a  top-buggy  at  all,  and  we  were  in 
such  a  hurry  to  get  on  to  the  battle-field  that  we  could  not 
prevent  the  overhanging  limbs  from  tearing  the  top  of  the 
buggy. 

About  sundown  we  came  to  an  opening  that  gave  us  a 
beautiful  view  in  the  distance  of  the  Bull  Run  Mountains, 
outlining  Thoroughfare  Gap,  that  I  at  once  recognized. 
Driving  along  rapidly  we  reached  Catlitt's  Station,  which 
will  be  remembered  by  the  old  soldiers;  this  was  not  the 
poiiit  we  intended  to  reach,  we  were  yet  quite  a  ways  from 
Manassas,  but  we  felt,  in  getting  near  a  railroad  track  once 
more,  we  were  at  least  within  the  bounds  of  civilization. 

We  got  a  view  of  Catlitt's  precisely  as  it  looked  during 
the  war,  as  also  a  sketch  of  the  point  where  "  Jeb  "  Stuart 
captured  John  Pope's  headquarters  camp.  It  will'  be 
remembered  his  headquarters  were  supposed  to  be  in  the 
saddle,  yet  the  Rebs,  soon  after  he  issued  this  order,  came 
into  posession  of  his  real  headquarters,  tents,  camp  and 
garrison  equipage,  as  well  as  some  important  papers. 


ON   TIIE   WAR-PATH.  201 

Through  this  neighborhood  there  are  some  fairly  good 
farming  lands  and  our  ears  were  made  glad  by  the  busy 
hum  of  the  mowing  machines  and  the  occasional  whistle 
of  the  locomotive. 

General  Grant  advanced  along  this  line  to  the  Rapidan, 
and  here  again  the  services  of  the  railroaders  were  brought 
into  requisition,  the  railroads  being  operated  by  them 
from  Alexandria,  along  which  were  transported  all  the 
supplies  for  Grant's  immense  army. 

When  it  is  remembered  that  this  is  the  region  infested 
by  Mosby's  guerillas,  the  services  will  be  more  highly  ap- 
preciated. Of  course  military  protection  was  offered,  but 
one  who  has  gone  into  a  country  through  which  an  army 
has  passed,  will  understand  that  this  rear  with  its  light 
protection  was  more  dangerous  than  the  front,  guerillas 
being  so  very  uncertain,  both  as  to  their  first  movements 
and  their  subsequent  methods. 

We  hugged  the  railroad  tracks  as  closely  in  this  drive 
as  we  would  have  done  when  Mosby  was  around,  passing 
over  much  historic  ground  after  dark,  reaching  the  hotel 
at  Manassas  about  midnight. 

When  we  had  explained  our  route  to  the  landlord,  he 
observed  that  we  had  traveled  about  60  miles  since  morn- 
ing and  he  thought  the  horse  needed  a  rest;  he  didn't 
express  any  sympathy  for  the  two  tired  travelers.  We 
went  to  bed  supperless  and  very  hungry. 

There  is  much  of  interest  about  this  part  of  the  coun- 
try. The  railroad  leading  from  Alexandria  through 
IVIanassas,  on  to  the  valley  of  Virginia,  over  the  Rapid  an, 
Brandy  Station,  etc.,  is,  in  a  way,  another  and  a  distinct 
war-track  that  crosses  our  war-path  at  right  angles. 


202  ON   THE    WAR-PATH. 

I  should  love  to  take  the  club  along  its  historic  route 
to  Brandy  Station — the  great  cavalry  battle-field  of  the 
war — or  guide  you  over  Stoneman's  great  cavalry  raid  to 
the  very  gates  of  Richmond.  Perhaps  at  another  time  we 
may  be  able  to  make  such  a  trip,  following  Grant's  path 
into  Richmond,  via  Wilderness,  Spottsylvania,  Cold  Har- 
bor and  Petersburg  to  Apporaattox. 

Manassas  lias  been  so  very  thoroughly  described  that 
we  can  mark  it  off  as  a  back  date,  and  hastily  skim  over 
its  historic  plains  by  a  fast  Pullman  vestibule  train  into 
Washington  City,  to  spend  an  evening  and  to  get  supplies 
for  the  further  trip  necessary  for  the  "  more-out-of-the- 
way  "  paths  to  Gettysburg  that  we  shall  follow. 

While  waiting  for  the  train  which  will  carry  us  to  the 
Capital  in  less  than  an  hour  for  less  than  a  dollar,  we  can 
walk,  promenade  the  long  platform  of  the  neat  summer 
hotel  alongside  the  tracks.  Just  down  the  track  on  the 
top  of  the  little  cut  is  the  remains  of  the  Ji  rat  earthwork 
oft  lie  war,  erected  by  Beauregard  to  protect  some  guns 
bearing  along  the  railroad  tracks. 

Fort  Beauregard  is  on  a  hill  on  the  other  side  of  the 
town  and  there  are  some  earthworks  back  of  the  hotel. 
During  the  war  when  I  was  in  here  on  a  Union  scout,  the 
only  "town"  consisted  of  the  tumble-down  railway  depot. 
It  has  entirely  disappeared.  In  the  place  of  the  army  that 
thickly  populated  the  surrounding  plains,  there  has  grown 
a  neat  little  inland  town,  well  supplied  with  churches, 
schools,  stores  and  railway  conveniences.  It  more  closely 
resembles  a  western  town,  however,  than  a  Virginia  settle- 
ment. Around  the  neat  station-house  are  piled,  ready  for 


ON  THE  WAR-PATH.  203 

the  next  coming  trains,  a  jumble  of  ]arge  tin  milk-cans. 
One  of  the  industries  of  the  place  is  supplying  milk  daily 
to  Washington  City. 

I  was  fortunate  in  meeting  here  a  former  army  com- 
rade, Capt.  Geo.  C.  Bound,  who  married  a  most  estimable 
lady  and  has  resided  here  since  the  war.  They  most  kindly 
entertained  us  at  their  comfortable  home  on  the  outskirts. 

If  any  of  the  club  should  ever  visit  the  place  from 
Washington,  Captain  Round  will  be  a  most  competent 
guide.  He  has  made  a  study  of  the  field  and  through  his 
assistance  we  were  able  to  obtain  a  complete  set  of  the  best 
views. 

As  previously  mentioned,  we  have  struck  the  trial  of 
Braddock,  who  passed  through  here  guided  by  Washing- 
ton on  the  war  path  to  Fort  Pitt. 

We  will  return  to  this  neighborhood  from  Washington 
en  route  to  Gettysburg. 

In  running  into  Washington  from  Manassas,  we  are 
following  literally  in  the  war  path  of  our  troops;  though 
the  trains  make  a  little  better  time  than  our  fellows  did 
from  First  Bull  Bun.  Subsequently,  when  the  Army  of 
the  Potomac  passed  through  here  from  Fredericksburg,  en 
route  to  Gettysburg,  as  we  are  now  traveling,  I  rode  with 
the  staff.  General  Hooker,  then  commanding  the  army, 
had  established  his  temporary  headquarters  near  here  at 
Fairfax  Court-house,  or  "  Coat-ous/'  as  they  pronounce 
it  I  was  sent  into  the  city  by  train  as  a  bearer  of  dis- 
patches, carrying  along  with  me  an  immense  mail  for  the 
quartermaster  and  paymaster's  office,  which  I  was  ordered 
to  deliver  personally  and  procure  receipts.  You  know  in 


204:  ON"  THE  AVAR- PATH. 

army  routine  they  both  give  receipts  and  take  receipts  in 
triplicate  for  everything.  While  we  are  gliding  along 
comfortably  seated  in  our  parlor  car,  permit  me  to  digress 
a  little  in  the  interests  of  the  telegraphers  of  the  war. 
The  editor  of  the  organ  of  the  telegraphers  says: 

"  A  large  number  of  gentlemen  of  more  or  less  influence  have 
made  it  one  of  the  objects  of  their  lives  to  persuade  the  United 
States  Government  to  recognize  the  military  telegraphers  who  gave 
such  efficient  service  to  the  country  when  it  needed  that  peculiar 
service.  To  them  it  has  seemed  criminal  for  the  Government  to 
refuse  this  recognition.  The  trivial  reasons  assigned  by  those  in 
authority  against  the  measure  are  unlike  what  should  be  the  utter- 
ances of  a  Republic  to  its  faithful  sons.  But  the  question  has  been 
often  asked,  why  did  not  the  military  telegraphers,  when  actively 
engaged  in  behalf  of  the  Government,  compel  it  to  recognize  them, 
when  their  services  were  needed  and  praised  by  the  people  of  the 
entire  country?  We  are  in  receipt  of  the  following  letter  bearing 
upon  this  point,  which  will  be  read  and  considered  with  much  inter- 
est by  all  telegraphers: 

"  WASHINGTON,  D.  C.,  Aug.  30,  1889. 

"  ,T.  B.  TALTAVAI.I,.  My  Dmr  Sir:  I  did  not  notice  in  the  Aye 
until  too  late  that  the  military  telegraphers  were  to  hold  this  year's 
reunion  in  Philadelphia,  or  I  should  have  been  present.  During  the 
war  I  went  in  as  a  scout,  tapping  Rebel  wires,  etc.  For  this  service 
I  obtained  a  commission  in  the  Signal  Corps  from  President  Lincoln. 
General  Eckert,  who  was  then  in  the  War  Department,  objected  to 
any  of  the  operators  being  commissioned.  He  represented  to  Secre- 
tary Stanton  that  all  the  force  would  join  the  Signal  Corps,  and  to 
prevent  a  strike  General  Eckert  had  Stanton  issue  an  order  prohibit- 
ing any  telegrapher  from  being  commissioned.  It  so  happened  that 
in  my  papers  in  the  War  Department  in  the  descriptive,  list,  under 
the  haul  of  occupation,  I  was  set  down  as  an  'operator.'  That  one 
word  gave  me  a  heap  of  trouble  in  those  days.  General  Eckert 
brought  Secretary  Stanton's  clerk's  attention  to  it,  and,  in  obedience 
to  his  order,  a  long  red  mark  was  made  over  my  name— in  a  word,  I 
was  debarred  and  prevented,  for  the  time  being,  from  promotion  for 
'gallant  and  meritorious'  services.  My  friends,  J.  W.  Forney, 
ex-President  Johnson  and  others  took  the  matter  in  hand.  Repre- 
sentations were  made  to  Secretary  Stanton  that  the  subject  would  be 


ON   THE    WAK-PATH.  205 

discussed  in  the  Senate  when  the  question  of  other  confirmations 
came  up.  Secretary  Stanton  was  induced  to  make  an  exception,  and 
my  name  went  in.  I  was  commissioned  second  lieutenant  in  the 
regular  army,  and  President  Lincoln  had  it  dated  back  a  year.  I 
served  to  the  end  in  the  field  as  a  scout,  etc.  I  am  writing  all  this 
to  say  that  there  is  an  inside  history  to  the  military  telegraph  corps 
that  needs  ventilation.  It  will  be  hard  on  General  Eckert,  but  the 
truth  must  be  told,  and  it  will  show  that  he  is  responsible  for  the 
present  anomalous  position  of  telegraphers  who  served  faithfully  in 
the  army.  What  I  desire  now  is  to  get  all  the  boys  interested  in 
working  up  the  bill  which  died  with  Senator  Logan.  As  I  am  an 
old  resident  here,  and  in  the  newspaper  business,  I  shall  take  delight 
in  looking  after  their  interests.  Yours  very  truly, 

"J.  O.  KERBEY." 

"Mr.  Kerbey  is  a  well-known  ex -telegrapher,  both  in  Washing- 
ton and  New  York  and  in  the  West.  He  was  a  prominent  tele- 
graphic figure  at  the  Centennial  Exhibition,  Philadelphia,  in  1876, 
since  which  time  he  has  been  more  or  less  actively  employed  in  the 
newspaper  field.  For  three  years  he  operated  the  leased  wire  of  the 
Chicago  Inter  Ocean,  and  has  recently  written  an  interesting  war 
narrative  of  500  pages,  '  The  Boy  Spy,'  in  which  he  gives  some 
interesting  war  telegraph  history,  in  connection  with  his  own  expe- 
riences as  a  scout.  We  have  conferred  with  several  military  telegraph- 
ers on  the  point  Mr.  Kerbey  brings  out  so  prominently,  and  all 
agreed  that  the  inside  history  had  better  now  be  made  public.  It 
would,  they  declare,  lead  to  prompt  and  effective  legislation,  for  the 
average  senator  or  congressman  very  properly  concludes  that,  if  the 
telegraphers  were  worthy  of  being  commissioned  for  the  prominent 
part  they  took  in  the  Civil  War,  that  honor  and  duty  should  have 
been  conferred  upon  them  when  the  facts  were  fresh,  and  not  delayed 
until  years  afterward.  General  Eckert  is  a  member  of  the  military 
telegraphers,  but  has  never  taken  part  in  the  deliberations  of  the 
association  to  any  extent.  It  is  due  his  old  comrades  to  now  have 
his  position  explained  to  them. — Sept.  16,  1889. 

In  imagination  I  take  hold  of  the  once-familiar  tele- 
graph key  to  have  a  talk  with  the  "boys."  I  "call  up" 
the  thousands  of  offices  along  the  railways  all  over  the 
country,  and,  as  each  answers,  I  give  the  signal  for  "copy" 
or  attention.  I  have  not  handled  the  key  in  some  years, 


•^06  ON   THE   WAR-PATH. 

but  have  not  forgotten  the  art  nor  lost  interest  in  the  art- 
ists. When  an  Associated  Press  reporter,  I  had  the  repu- 
tation of  being  a  steady,  long-distance  sender  whose 
Morse  got  to  the  end  of  the  line  in  large  quantities. 

(I  am  not  sending  from  copy  altogether,  but  drawing 
from  memory  through  my  fingers'  ends.  I  will  ask  you 
not  to  "  Bk."  or  send  me  back.  So  here  goes  "  copy  "  for 
the  record.) 

Without  any  desire  to  seek  controversy  with  promi- 
nent officials  of  the  telegraph  companies,  or  any  dispo- 
sition other  than  a  sincere  desire  to  put  on  record  the 
facts  gained  through  a  personal  experience  in  the  matter 
of  the  official  recognition  of  telegraphers,  I  submit  the 
following  plain  statement: 

Being  somewhat  familiar  with  the  process  of  legisla- 
tion at  Washington  through  my  newspaper  connection,  I 
was  asked  to  give  my  attention  to  the  interests  of  a  bill 
before  Congress  to  give  to  the  telegraph  operators  of  the 
war  some  official  recognition  by  allowing  them  brevet  rank 
orcommission  a?  officers  on  the  same  line  with  Signal  Corps 
or  Engineers.  Xo  pay  was  asked,  and  of  course  the  commis- 
sions were  not  to  be  in  force,  the  primary  object  being  to 
g.et  their  names  on  record.  I  have  cheerfully  done  all  that 
I  could  in  furtherance  of  their  desires,  but  suggested  that 
the  military  railroaders  should  be  included  in  the  list. 

Objection  was  made  to  this,  not  because  the  railroaders 
were  not  equally  worthy  of  the  same  recognition,  but  it 
was  found  by  the  manager  of  the  telegraph  bill  that  such  an 
addition  would  encumber  the  very  few  telegraphers  asking 
the  relief.  In  other  words,  selfish  interests  prevailed. 


ON    THE   WAR-PATH.  20* 

The  Veteran  Signal  Corps  Association  by  a  vote  expressed 
their  opposition  to  having  these  telegraphers  tacked  on  to 
the  signal  corps  now,  as  they  had  not  only  refused  to  unite 
with  these  during  the  war,  when  commissions  were  offered 
them  in  that  branch,  but  the  officers  in  charge  of  the  mil- 
itary telegraphers  had  taken  advantage  of  their  opportu- 
nities by  being  close  to  the  War  Department  to  annoy 
and  embarrass  the  operators  of  the  signal  corps  then  work- 
ing in  the  field. 

The  Veteran  Signal  officers  do  not  offer  any  opposition 
to  a  proper  recognition  of  the  civilian  telegraphers,  but 
they  do  object  in  an  official  manner  to  the  proposed 
method,  and  for  the  reasons  stated. 

Through  some  personal  relations  with  General  Logan, 
then  chairman  of  the  Senate  military  committee  that  had 
the  bill  before  them,  I  became  somewhat  interested  in  the 
matter. 

The  prominent  question  that  naturally  arises,  and  will 
not  down,  propounded  to  me  by  some  Senators  was, .  if 
these  telegraphers  are  entitled  to  the  rank  and  privileges 
they  now  seek  by  legislation,  were  they  not  eligible  to  the 
same  during  the  war? 

Why  was  it  not  conferred  then?  In  reply  to  this  ques- 
tion I  have  given  my  experience,  to  the  committee  without 
comment.  They,  like  the  operators  who  hear  this,  can 
form  their  own  conclusions.  One  naturally  seeks  for 
motives  in  all  matters  of  this  character.  Opinions  and 
surmises  can  be  as  easily  made  by  the  reader  as  the  writer. 

My  statement  has  been  made  that  General  Eckert  per- 
sonally procured  an  order  from  Mr.  Stanton  prohibiting 


208  ON   THE    WAR-PATH. 

any  operator  from  being  commissioned  in  the  Signal  Corps. 
This  matter  was  tested  over  my  commission  so  late  as  the 
year  1864,  which  date  it  is  important  to  keep  in  mind. 

It  is  obviously  impossible  to  procure  from  any  of  the 
survivors  of  the  military  telegraphers  any  adverse  testi- 
mony against  the  gentleman  who  was  then,  as  now,  their 
"general  manager."  A  majority  of  them  are  yet  in  the 
telegraph  business,  or  whose  interests  are  closely  allied 
with  those  of  the  great  corporations.  It  is  a  question  of 
self-interest,  or  perhaps  of  daily  bread  and  butter.  Their 
lips  are  sealed.  I  was  for  years  under  the  same  bondage, 
and  discreetly  held  my  peace.  Now,  however,  I  am  a 
"  free  lance,"  and  as  I  expect  to  die  some  day,  I  am  simply 
putting  the  truth  on  record,  without  fear  or  favor. 

What  was  General  Eckert's  motive  in  quietly  procur- 
ing such  an  unjust,  if  not  outrageous,,  order?  My  per- 
sonal opinion  then,  which  has  been  strengthened  by  a 
twenty-five  years'  association,  was  that  he  was  prompted 
wholly  by  a  selfish  and  grasping  disposition  to  elevate  him- 
self at  the  expense  of  the  operators  in  his  employ. 

General  Eckert's  friends  will  no  doubt  attribute  his 
opposition  to  the  rivalry  then  existing  between  the  tele- 
graph and  the  Signal  Corps.  Indirectly,  that  is  correct, 
but  in  antagonizing  the  Signal  Corps  at  that  time,  he 
knowingly  worked  against  the  interests  of  the  telegraphers. 
That  this  is  true  is  established  by  the  "inexorable  logic 
of  events/'  as  the  Signal  Corps  now  have  the  record,  the 
rank,  and  the  glory  of  their  service  in  every  field,  while 
the  military  telegraphers  are  begging  Congress  now  for 
that  which  was  tendered  to  them  in  1SG1-G2. 


OS  THE   WAR-PATH.  209 

The  Signal  Corps  is  of  prior  organization  to  the  tele- 
graphers. In  fact,  it  ante-dated  the  war  several  years. 
The  chiefs  of  the  signal  bureau  were  therefore  entitled, 
not  only  by  seniority  but  in  every  other  way,  to  the  con- 
trol of  all  the  Government  telegraphs  during  the  war,  in 
greater  sense  than  it  has  since  in  operating  the  Govern- 
ment's military  wires  in  connection  with  signals,  etc.  No 
one  doubts  but  that  in  future  wars  the  telegraphers 
and  signalists  under  the  present  organization  will  control 
all  military  communications. 

The  signal  officers  were  dissatisfied  with  the  imperfect 
"  Coffee  Mill "  induction  or  dial  instruments  they  were 
compelled  to  use  on  the  field,  and  desired  to  improve  the 
telegraph  branch  of  their  service  by  adopting  the  Morse 
method  in  its  place. 

Telegraphing  was  only  one  and  a  minor  branch  of  the 
duties  of  signal  officers  who  are  properly  described  as  the 
eyes  and  the  ears  of  the  army,  the  telegraph  being  the 
tongue  used  to  communicate  their  observations. 

The  present  general  manager  of  the  telegraphs  is  known 
as  the  "  Executive  "  of  Jay  Gould  in  controlling  the  con- 
solidated lines  of  numerous  opposition  companies  that  this 
great  "consolidator  has  caught  in  his  net  as  little  fishes, 
that  he  feeds  to  the  voracious  big  sucker  fish." 

During  war  times  General  Eckert  was  strongly  opposed 
to  consolidation.  He  no  doubt  saw  that  in  the  event  of 
the  Signal  Corps  obtaining  the  control  of  the  telegraph, 
he  would  lose  his  occupation  as  manager  of  the  Wai- 
Department  office.  Primarily,  this  was  his  motive  in 
antagonizing  the  Signal  Corps.  He  was  enabled  by  virtue 


210  Otf   THE   WAR-PATH. 

of  his  necessarily  close  personal  relations  with  the  Secre- 
tary of  War,  which  were  cunningly  brought  about  by  his 
fawning  services  in  personally  delivering  the  import- 
ant dispatches  received  by  the  operators  from  the  hard- 
working men  in  the  front  instead  of  using  messengers.  It 
will  be  readily  seen  that  in  placing  himself  between  the 
telegraphers  and  the  Secretary,  he  became  a  "vehicle,"  and 
was,  of  course,  in  a  sense  in  a  confidential  relation  with  the 
Secretary.  It  was  through  such  influences,  and  the  mis- 
representations to  the  Secretary,  that  he  was  enabled  to 
procure  such  an  arbitrary  order  as  previously  indicated. 

Mr.  Stan  ton's  motive  was  to  retain  through  this  source 
the  control  of  and  personal  supervision  of  all  telegraphic 
communications  of  whatever  character  between  the  gen- 
erals in  the  field  and  their  friends  in  Washington  or  else- 
where. 

I  assert  of  my  own  personal  knowledge  that  every  dis- 
patch sent  from  the  field  in  Virginia  passed  through  his 
hands,  if  he  so  desired  or  his  friends  thought  advisable. 

In  the  War  Department  the  telegraph  wires  from  all  sec- 
tions, whether  North,  East,  West  or  South,  were  led  into 
separate  little  instruments  which  recorded,  when  necessary, 
every  single  item  telegraphed  in  any  direction. 

When  General  Hooker  was  out  here  at  Fairfax  the  ques- 
tion of  his  being  relieved  of  the  command  was  being  dis- 
cussed in  Washington. 

As  is  generally  known,  there  were  all  sorts  of  intrigues 
and  plots  being  concocted,  both  in  the  army  and  at  the 
War  Department  in  Washington.  Hooker's  friends  were, 
I  believe,  those  of  Secretary  Chase,  who  was  an  aspirant 


OX  THE    WAR-PATH.  211 

for  Presidential    honors  to  succeed   Mr.    Lincoln's  first 
term. 

Stanton  was,  of  course,  interested  for  Mr.  Lincoln's 
succession.  A II  political  matter  passing  our  wires  from  any 
direction  referring  to  Chase,  as  well  as  criticism  of  Stanton 
and  Lincoln,  was  referred  to  Mr.  Stanton. 

Hooker  and  his  friends  in  the  field  did  not  imagine 
when  filing  matter  at  a  railroad  station  out  here  that  their 
private  and  personal  telegrams,  addressed  to  friends,  prob- 
ably in  New  York  or  the  "West,  passed  through  the  War 
Department,  were  laid  before  Mr.  Stanton  and  his  friends; 
but  this  really  was  true,  and  sad  is  the  fact,  that  the  same 
secret  espionage  or  censorship  was  extended  over  every  other 
prominent  man's  telegraphic  communications.  McClellan 
and  his  friends  suffered  from  this  same  cause. 

In  this  way  much,  very  much,  of  the  true  inwardness, 
not  to  say  cussedness,  is  explained,  that  came  between 
President  Lincoln  and  his  generals  in  the  field. 

It  will  readily  be  seen  that  in  order  to  accomplish  these 
ends  and  each  serve  his  own  purpose,  Mr.  Stanton  decided 
it  to  be  a  "War  Necessity"  to  keep  the  management  of  the 
telegraph  independent  of  military  control.  And  for  him 
to  give  an  order  was  equivalent  to  an  act  of  Congress. 

The  records  will  show  that  in  the  judgement  of  nearly 
all  the  prominent  generals  in  the  field  of  war  it  was  more 
of  a  "  Military  Necessity"  to  have  the  telegraphers  under 
the  control  of  the  generals.  President  Lincoln,  Secretary 
of  War  Cameron  and  Assistant  Secretary  Thomas  A. 
Scott,  early  favored  the  formation  of  the  telegraphers  into 
a  military  organization,  as  the  following  official  corre- 
spondence indicates. 


ON   THE    WAR-PATH. 

Col.  Anson  Stager  was  the  general  superintendent  of 
the  Western  Union  Telegraph  at  the  commencement  of 
the  war.  He  represented  the  interests  of  such  capitalists 
as  Amasa  Stone,  Ben  Wade,  Chase  and  others. 

Upon  the  recommendation  of  these  persons  and  none 
other  he  was  selected  by  Col.  Thomas  A.  Scott  to  take 
charge  of  military  telegraphs  for  the  Government. 

Colonel  Scott,  as  Assistant  Secretary  of  War,  directed 
Mr.  Stager  to  submit  a  plan  of  organization,  notifying  him 
that  the  entire  matter  was  in  his  hands  and  any  recom- 
mendation he  would  make  would  be  confirmed  by  the 
Government. 

After  consulting  his  telegraph  interests  it  was  decided 
that  to  offer  commissions  to  operators  would  result  in 
detaching  from  his  Western  Union  lines  the  best  men  who 
would  be  tempted  to  come  to  the  front  and  serve  as  offi- 
cers. Rather  than  the  business  interests  of  his  company 
should  suffer  commissions  were  not  recommended. 

A  plan  was  submitted  for  a  civil  organization,  restrict- 
ing the  pay  of  military  operators  for  the  same  reason  as 
influenced  their  rank. 

These  papers  with  Mr.  Stager's  estimate  are  accessible, 
in  the  War  Department^  to  any  proper  person. 

There  was  not  the  remotest  suggestion  for  military 
rank.  However,  this  question  was  forced  upon  these  gen- 
tlemen's attention  by  Gen.  M.  C.  Meigs  who  was  then 
Quartermaster-General  of  the  army,  who  declined  to 
recognize  officially  such  an  organization  and  refused  to 
issue  supplies  or  money  on  the  requisition  of  general 
managers  and  foremen  of  construction  gangs.  He  intimated 


ON   THE   WAR-PATH.  213 

that  he  would  be  pleased  to  issue  such  supplies,  etc.,  on  the 
orders  of  the  Signal  Corps,  as  it  was  legally  entitled  to 
make  such  demand  upon  his  department. 

But  this  would  not  suit  the  "  general  managers." 

Gen.  Meigs  is  credited  with  helping  them  out  of  the 
dilemma  by  suggesting  that  the  manager  and  operators  in 
the  field  be  commissioned  as  assistant  quartermasters  and 
he  would  in  that  capacity  be  enabled  by  law  to  fill  their 
requisition  and  be  empowered  to  deliver  into  their  hands 
Government  property  necessary  for  their  equipment  and 
maintenance. 

This  suggestion  was  acted  upon  to  the  extent  of  issuing 
commissions  to  the  General  Manager  only. 

To  further  establish  the  point,  that  it  was  the  desire  of 
the  Government  to  give  the  operators  commissions,  I  submit 
copies  of  some  official  correspondence. 

[Copy.] 

WAR  DEPARTMENT,  Oct.  28,  1861. 

Respectfully  Referred  to  the  President  : 

The  Secretary  of  War  believes  it  to  be  a  necessity  to  commission 
telegraph  operators  as  per  Gen.  Meigs'  suggestion,  but  desires  your 
views.  Mr.  Stager  is  now  in  charge  of  Government  lines  and  is  well 
calculated  to  perform  the  duties.  His  connection  with  all  leading 
lines  will  be  of  service.  If  you  approve,  arrangements  icill  be  made  at 
once. 

[Signed]  Tnos.  A.  SCOTT, 

Assistant  Secretary  of  War. 

Which  Mr.  Lincoln  endorsed  in  his  own  handwriting,  as 
follows : 


214  ON  THE  WAR-PATH. 

I  Lave  not  sufficient  time  to  stud)'  and  mature  an  opinion  on  the 
plan.  If  the  Secretary  of  War  has  confidence  in  it  and  is  satisfied  to 
adopt  it,  I  have  no  objections. 

[Signed.]  A.  LINCOLN. 

This  was  further  endorsed 

Approved  by  Secretary  of  War. 

SIMON  CAMERON, 

Secretary. 

In  compliance  with  this,  commissions  were  given  to 
Stager  as  Colonel  and  Brigade  Quartermaster. 

There  was  no  more  law  for  Stager's  appointment  than 
for  that  of  any  operator. 

In  order  to  facilitate  his  business  he  soon  found  it 
advisable  to  ask  for  commissions  for  a  few  of  his  friends. 

Eckert,  who  was  made  manager  as  late  as  July,  1SG2, 
and  a  few  other  Division  superintendents,  who  were  at 
home,  were  made  captains. 

The  operators  in  the  front  who  did  all  the  work, 
remained  mere  civilian  clerks  to  the  quartermasters. 

In  most  cases  the  operators  were  respected  by  the  gen- 
eral officers  to  whose  headquarters  they  became  attached; 
but  among  the  associates  of  the  General's  Staff  he  was 
without  rank  or  consideration.  To  be  sure  he  was  given 
a  seat  alongside  of  an  ambulance  driver,  but  he  suffered 
keenly  from  the  envy  and  misrepresentation  his  false  posi- 
tion gave  him  among  the  gentlemen  at  headquarters. 

If  these  boys  had  been  commissioned  as  Signal  officers, 
they  would  have  enjoyed  the  privilege  I  had  as  such  of 
going  as  they  pleased. 

It  is  a  fact  that  a  second  lieutenant  on  the  staff  of  a 
General  has  all  the  independence  without  any  of  the 
responsibility  of  his  General. 


ON   THE   WAK-PATH.  215 

The  specious  plea  of  the  general  managers  that  the 
object  in  not  issuing  their  commissions  was  simply  to  pre- 
vent "military  control/' will  not  suffice  in  the  face  of  the 
well-known  fact  that  Signal  officers  are  of  the  General 
Staff  and  like  the  Quartermaster  and  Adjutant-General  are 
essentially  independent  of  Military  Control  except  from 
the  headquarters. 

The  operators,  as  a  rule,  in  those  days  were  boys  and 
easily  deceived  by  the  plausible  talk  at  Washington  of  an 
attempt  of  the  Signal  Corps  to  absorb  them;  or  perhaps 
they  were  influenced  by  the  promise  of  being  kept  "inde- 
pendent "  of  everybody,  but  the  Washington  office. 

It  will  be  seen  by  the  most  casual  observer  that  Mr. 
Stanton,  through  channels  practically  kept  a  telephone  at 
Army  Headquarters,  through  which  every  "vibration" — 
and  they  were  numerous  and  heavy  sometimes — was  trans- 
mitted to  his  private  ear.  In  more  senses  than  one  the 
Army  of  the  Potomac  was  tied  to  his  office  by  a  wire;  when 
he  pulled  the  string  the  monkey  had  to  dance. 

.  In  war  times  there  can  be  no  such  thing  as  being 
"  independent "  of  the  Military,  as  General  Eckert  and 
his  operators,  as  well  as  Mr.  Stanton,  subsequently  found 
out  when  they  undertook  to  tangle  General  Grant  up  by 
their  wire-pulling. 

It  will  be  remembered  that  the  communications 
of  the  Generals  in  the  armies  of  the  East  to  those  in 
the  West  necessarially  passed  through  this  War  Depart- 
ment "telegraph  mill." 

The  attempt  of  Mr.  Stanton  to  revise  or  oversee  the 
official  correspondence  from  Grant  in  Virginia  to  Sherman 
in  the  West  has  become  a  matter  of  historical  mention. 


216  ON   THE   WAR-PATH. 

Colonel  Stager,  at  an  early  period,  retired  from  the 
actual  control  of  telegraphy,  though  he  remained  in  com- 
mission and  was  nominally  the  head  of  the  service  till  the 
close  of  the  war.  All  communications  to  the  telegraph 
department  were  addressed  to  him,  though  Major  Eckert 
was  the  manager  at  Washington  War  Department,  and 
handled  all  such  matter.  This  fact  should  be  borne  in 
mind  in  reading  documentary  evidence  at  War  Depart- 
ment. 

As  indicating  General  Grant's  views  in  support  of  my 
statement,  I  give  herewith  some  characteristic  correspond- 
ence that,  in  his  own  words,  indicates  General  Grant's 
views  of  the  "  military  necessity  "of  the  telegraph  being 
independent  of  the  General's  commanding  in  the  field. 

[Copy  of  Telegram.] 
U.  S.  Military  Telegraph  Blank. 

WASHINGTON,  Nov.  14,  1862. 
To  U.  S.  GRANT,  Major-General: 

Some  one  signing  himself  "John  Riggin,  in  charge  of  Military 
telegraphs,"  is  interfering  with  the  management  of  the  telegraphs  in 
Kentucky  and  Tennessee.  This  man  is  aeting  without  the  authority 
of  Colonel  Stager,  General  Superintendent  of  Military  telegraphs, 
and  f*  an  imptwtor.  Arrest  him  and  send  him  north  of  your  depart 
ment  before  he  does  mischief  by  his  interference. 
By  order  of  the  Secretary  of  War. 

P.  II.  WATSON, 

Ass't  Sec'y  of  War. 

Imagine  the  indignation  of  General  Grant  upon  being 
handed  such  a  dispatch  by  the  operator  at  his  own  head- 
quarters. It  indicates  that  his  headquarters'  affairs  had 
been  reported  to  Washington  without  his  knowledge;  the 


ON   THE   WAK-PATH.  217 

telegraphers  in  his  armies  were  acting  as  informers  on  his 
own  Staff  officers. 

His  reply  in  vigorous  United  States  language  shows  his 
feelings. 

[Telegram.] 

SECRETARY  OF  WAR,  Washington. 

John  Riggin  referred  to  in  your  dispatch  as  an  impostor  is  my 
aide.  He  has  given  but  one  order  referring  to  telegraphing,  and  that 
was  dictated  by  me.  It  was  that  private  dispatches  might  be  sent 
over  the  wires  when  it  did  not  interfere  with  Military  dispatches. 
Colonel  Riggin  is  assigned  the  duty  of  looking  over  telegraphs  in  this 
department,  a  position  which  interferes  with  no  present  arrangement 
and  is  intended  solely  for  my  relief.  Your  agent  has  misrepresented 
the  matter. 

[Signed.]  U.  S.  GRANT. 

This  correspondence  probably  caused  General  Grant 
and  his  Staff  officers  to  investigate  and  ferret  out  the  tele- 
graph spy  in  their  camp  who  reported  direct  by  wire  to  the 
War  Department,  instead  of  through  him.  To  be  brief, 
word  was  passed  along  the  wires  in  that  department  one 
ugly  November  day  to  the  effect  that  a  certain  captain  of 
Western  Union  Telegraphs  in  that  department  had  been 
arrested  and  placed  in  a  guard-house  by  orders  of  General 
Grant. 

An  official  message,  not  done  up  in  cipher,  but  plain 
so  all  operators  could  hear  it,  was  sent  to  Washington 
officials  to  this  effect: 

Captain  of  W.  U.  Telegraphs  must  go  out  of  my  department. 
My  orders  must  be  obeyed.  U.  8.  GRANT. 

He  did  go  out,  on  the  day  following,  under  guard,  and 

if  he  had  been  sent  back,  Gen.  Grant  would  have  resigned. 

Some  of  the  operators  along  the  lines   were  disposed  to 


218  ON   THE    WAH-PATH. 

resent  this  military  interference  with  their  ''indepen- 
dence" and  openly  talked  of  striking  or  resigning.  Grant 
heard  of  this  and  without  asking  for  any  bill  of  particu- 
lars or  grievances  issued  an  order  to  every  commander  in 
his  department  to  "Arrest  every  telegraph  operator  who 
resigns  or  attempts  to  leave  his  post,  or  refuses  to  per- 
form military  duty."  I  think  Mr.  Somerville  was  arrested. 
This  raises  the  interesting  question  whether  the  Brother- 
hood or  Knights  of  Labor,  of  which  the  telegraphers  are 
an  influential  factor,  would,  in  time  of  war,  come  in  conflict 
with  the  Military  by  an  organized  strike  all  along  the  line. 

It  will  become  apparent  that  the  telegraph  is  as  much 
a  "military  necessity"  as  any  other  of  the  important 
auxiliaries,  all  of  which  are  essential  to  any  complete 
system  of  warfare. 

The  War  Department  cipher,  which  General  Eckert 
appropriates,  as  of  his  own  and  Col.  Stager's  invention, 
which  is  based  upon  the  route  system,  was  used  first  by 
Col.  Myers,  well  known  as  "Old  Probabilities"  and  first 
chief  signal  officer.  The  military  operators  entrusted  with 
the  key  to  this  much  vaunted  cipher  code  were  carefully 
selected  and  trained  at  the  War  Office  in  Washington  be- 
fore being  put  in  the  field.  Their  instructions  were  of 
the  most  positive  character,  not  to  reveal  to  any  one  under 
any  circumstances  the  key.  In  fact,  no  written  keys  were 
permitted,  each  of  the  "cipher  operators"  was  made  so 
familiar  with  the  system  that  the  carrying  of  any  written 
explanation  was  obviated.  On  one  occasion  Gen.  Grant 
happened  to  be  some  distance  from  his  headquarters,  when 
he  received  a  couple  of  long  dispatches  from  Washington. 


ON   THE   WAR-PATH.  219 

They  were  in  regulation  cipher  of  course,  and  as  he  was 
not  accompanied  by  the  cipher  operator  he  could  not 
translate  them.  He  inferred  from  the  condition  of  affairs 
that  it  was  a  most  important  communication — one  perhaps 
involving  the  movement  of  armies,  in  which  thousands  of 
lives  may  be  at  stake — but  he  was  helpless  and  mad.  In 
order  to  prevent  future  recurrence,  he  instructed  his  Chief 
of  Staff  to  inform  himself  as  to  this  cipher.  It  is  always 
understood  that  the  Chief  of  Staff  as  confidential  aide  of  the 
General  always  accompanies  him.  In  making  this  demand 
on  the  operator,  he  explained  his  orders  from  Washington, 
but  Grant  insisted,  and  that  operator  being  a  detached  sol- 
dier, he  obeyed  Grant's  orders  and  under  protest  gave  up 
the  key  to  the  Commauder-iu-Chief  of  all  the  armies.  He 
reported  the  circumstance  to  Washington  and  was  at  once 
dismissed  from  the  military  telegraph.  The  key  being  im- 
mediately changed,  Grant  was  again  helpless.  He,  how- 
ever, nobly  protected  his  soldier  operator  and  demanded 
his  reinstatement,  which  was  accorded,  and  Mr.  Beckwith, 
the  soldier  operator,  remained  with  him  to  the  end.  In 
communicating  with  Mr.  Stanton,  General  Grant  said: 
"  It  occurred  to  him  that  Mr.  Eckert  had  his  operators  so 
trained  that  they  were  afraid  to  obey  any  instructions  but 
those  that  emanated  from  him,  etc.''  My  record  at  the 
War  Department  will  show  that  I  was  detailed  at  Cavalry 
Corps  Headquarters  from  May  3,  1863,  to  June,  1864,  or 
until  acceptance  of  commission.  At  this  headquarters,  as 
well  as  at  those  of  Hooker,  and  at  different  points,  were 
detailed  one  or  more  of  these  "cipher  operators,"  with 
whom  I  came  ,in  contact.  I  did  not  let  it  become  gen- 


220  ON   THE   WAR-PATH. 

erally  known  that  I  was  an  operator,  because  I  knew  that 
as  long  as  they  were  in  ignorance  of  this  acquirement,  I 
could  unsuspectingly  linger  near  the  wires  that  run  from 
Headquarters  along  the  railroad  to  the  War  Department 
and  could  and  did  read  the  sounds  of  the  instruments  as 
often  as  I  chose,  or  whenever  I  thought  a  little  attention 
would  result  in  any  interesting  developments.  I  trans- 
lated the  cipher  and  was  familiar  with  its  use,  notwith- 
standing General  Eckert's  statement  recently  printed  in  a 
Philadelphia  paper  and  copied  largely,  that  his  cipher  had 
never  been  revealed. 

"Gen.  Thomas  T.  Eckert,  who  is  a  guest  of  the  Continental, 
does  not  seem  to  have  any  particularly  pressing  business  that  calls 
him  at  this  moment  from  New  York  to  Philadelphia.  There  is  no 
person  in  the  world  who  has  been  more  intimately  associated  than  he 
with  the  development  of  the  telegraph  system.  He  was  an  operator 
in  the  early  days  of  the  MorsC  invention,  and  he  was  the  man  chosen 
under  President  Lincoln's  administration  to  construct  and  conduct 
the  telegraph  corps  of  the  War  Department  that  was  everywhere 
with  the  forces  in  the  field.  As  an  executive  officer — he  was  made  an 
Assistant  Secretary  of  War — he  selected  and  commissioned  the  Gov- 
ernment telegraphers  and  invented  the  cipher  in  which  all  important 
messages  were  transmitted  between  the  department  and  commanders 
of  armies,  corps  and  divisions  and  between  the  respective  command- 
ers. The  cipher  was  a  marvel.  No  man  who  did  not  possess  the 
key  ever  interpreted  it,  and  yet  it  did  not  appear  at  a  first  glance  to 
be  exceedingly  complex.  There  is  a  story  which  runs  that  when  it 
was  first  presented  to  Secretary  Stanton,  he  was  inclined  to  despise 
it  as  a  clumsy  piece  of  work.  "  Look  here,  Eckert,"  he  said,  "  any- 
body can  read  that."  Try  it  yourself,  Mr.  Secretary,"  responded 
General  Eckert,  as  he  laid  the  carefully  prepared  sheets  before  his 
superior  officer.  "Pshaw,  that's  no  trouble,"  Stanton  said,  as  he 
cleared  a  space  on  his  desk  and  went  to  work  on  them.  After  he 
had  covered  a  dozen  sheets  of  manuscript  with  his  guesses  at  the 
meaning  of  the  cipher,  his  persistent  temper  rose  high.  The  per- 
spiration came  out  on  his  face,  lie  ran  his  fingers  through  his  mop  of 
iron-gray  hair,  he  glared  through  his  gold-bowed  spectacles  and 


ON   THE   WAR-PATH.  221 

stroked  his  beard  with  extreme  fervor.  Meanwhile,  General  Eckert 
sat  by,  calmly  waiting  and  expectant.  If  he  felt  a  sense  of  triumph 
he  permitted  no  symptom  of  it  to  escape  him.  Mr.  Stanton  was  not 
the  man  to  abandon  any  task  until  he  was  sure  that  he  was  defeated; 
but  at  the  end  of  an  hour  he  tore  up  his  own  papers,  handed  General 
Eekert's  manuscript  back  to  its  author,  and  said:  "I  give  it  up, 
Eckert;  and  now  you  can  tell  me  what  all  does  it  mean.  General 
Eckert  gave  him  the  explanation,  and  on  the  following  day  this 
ingenious  cipher  was  put  into  use  The  secret  of  it  was  never 
betrayed,  and  it  was  of  inestimable  value  during  the  war." 

I  will,  for  the  benefit  of  this  war  club,  give  a  brief 
illustration  which  represents  this  much  vaunted  War  De- 
partment cipher.  If  you  will  notice  the  next  telegram 
you  receive,  most  likely  you  will  find  precisely  five  words 
on  each  line.  It  is  the  custom  of  expert  telegraphers  to 
place  five  words  on  a  line  because  it  enables  him  at  a 
glance  of  the  number  of  lines  to  tell  exactly  how  many 
words  are  in  the  entire  dispatch.  The  "  check  "  that 
accompanies  all  dispatches  and  the  operator's  count  must 
agree.  In  this  way  he  is  sure  of  not  having  missed  a  word. 
Of  course  it  will  be  easier  to  count  lines  by  five  and  the 
fractional  part  being  on  the  last  line.  Upon  this  basis 
the  "route  cipher"  of  the  War  Department  was  built. 
This  system  was  devised  because  it  was  frequently  neces- 
sary to  telegraph  openly,  as  it  were,  the  exigencies  of  the 
war  requiring  an  unlimited  vocabulary,  such  as  is  barely 
possible  by  the  usual  arbitrary  methods. 


Five 

and 

arbitraries 

form 

simplest 

detection 

the 

of 

of 

the 

of 

insertion 

use 

the 

of 

difficult 

of 

the 

much 

illustration 

quite 

blind 

by 

vaunted 

an 

becomes 

words 

war 

war 

as 

system 

and 

the 

office 

only 

the 

prescribing 

during 

cipher 

given 

routes 

of 

government 

used 

is 

intricate 

innumerable 

our 

by 

this 

222  ON   THE   WAR-PATH. 

I  have  for  brevity  and  convenience  placed  this  in  the 
order  of  columns.  In  transmitting  by  wire,  or  by  letter 
or  courier,  there  may  be  any  number  of  words  on  eacli  line. 
The  party  who  receives  the  cipher  will  afterward  arrange 
the  col  urns  after  the  prescribed  key.  In  order  to  simplify 
it  I  have  made  the  first  word  five,  which  we  will  say  means 
that  the  matter  following  it  is  to  be  placed  in  five  columns, 
as  I  have  arranged  it.  The  route  to  follow  in  reading  has 
been  previously  arranged — in  this  case  it  is  made  almost 
too  plain.  To  interpret:  Read  up  the  last,  down  the 
fourth,  up  the  third,  down  the  second  and  up  the  first 
column.  In  the  war  ciphers  numerous  "  arbitrages " 
were  used  that  made  it  more  difficult;  each  general  officer's 
name  and  rank  was  expressed  in  one  word.  Armies, 
cities,  rivers,  roads,  etc.,  are  also  represented  by  arbitrary 
words.  Numerals  are  so  arranged  that  they  can  not  be 
mistaken,  a  certain  class  of  words  being  used  exclusively 
for  this.  The  time  of  day  in  half  hours  is  given  by  boys1 
names  for  the  morning  and  girls'  names  for  the  afternoon. 
Numerous  changes  in  the  routes  may  be  made;  some  read 
diagonally. 

The  Signal  Code  of  our  Army  is  practically  the  same 
as  that  of  the  Morse  or  American  telegraph  system,  which 
is  composed  of  two  of  the  simplest  known  characters.  It 
may  be  recorded  by  a  dot  and  a  dash  or  received  by  ear  by 
a  short  or  long  sound.  Visual  signaling  by  the  flag  is 
conducted  on  precisely  the  same  principle,  a  motion  to 
the  right  or  left  signifying  a  dot  or  a  dash.  At  night, 
short  or  long  flash  or  occultation.  In  rockets,  by  dis- 
charging a  white  and  a  red  ball. 


ON  THE   WAR-PATH.  223 

To  form  this  now  almost  universal  war  alphabet  it  is 
only  necessary  to  use  any  combination  of  these  elements  to 
form  the  Morse  character  by  signals. 

A.—  B— ...   C..    .   D  — .  .   E.    F  .  —  .    G .  H  .  . . .  I . . 

J  —  .  —  .  K  —  .  —  L M  -    -  1ST  —  .  O  .   .P Q  . .  —  . 

R  .   . .   S  . . .    T  —   U  .  .  —  V  . . .  —    W  . X  .  —  .  .  Y  . .   . . 

Z...   . 

It  may  be  applied  to  the  most  sensitive  of  galvano- 
meters ;  in  fact,  it  has  been  for  many  years  in  use  on  the 
Atlantic  cables,  the  message  received  being  read  by  the 
right  and  left  deflection  of  a  needle,  as  the  flags  are  read. 
When  I  was  out  here  on  this  very  track  on  which  was 
standing  a  locomotive,  /  used  to  whistle  to  call  in  some 
telegraphers  by  way  of  a  practical  joke.  A  bugle  may 
sound  the  alphabet  by  long  and  short  blasts.  Two  signal 
officers  or  expert  telegraphers  may  converse  with  each 
other  by  winking  the  right  or  left  eyes,  or,  in  the  darkness, 
if  they  can  but  touch  each  other  with  the  feet  or  hands, 
conversation  may  be  carried  on  in  absolute  silence  by  the 
sense  of  long  and  short  or  hard  and  soft  pressure  ;  there- 
fore when  you  play  poker  with  a  signal  officer  be  sure  that 
his  feet  beneath  the  table  are  properly  insulated.  Much 
of  the  phenomena  of  modern  mind-reading  or  locating 
may  be  accounted  for  in  this  way.  The  deaf  and  dumb 
and  blind  may  find  in  the  invention  brought  out  by  our  war 
a  more  satisfactory  method  of  communication  than  that  of 
their  sign  language.  It  is  not,  of  course,  to  be  expected  that 
words  are  always  spelled  out ;  I  have  worked  out  a  system 
of  signal  shorthand  that  enables  accomplished  signalists 
to  talk  at  a  distance  as  rapidly  as  if  they  were  together. 


ON  THE   WAR-PATH. 

The  possibilitiesare  wonderful,  and  the  fact  that  all  the  gov- 
ernments of  the  earth  have  adopted  the  system  of  war  sig- 
naling our  war  developed,  proves  its  utility;  but  of  this, 
more  anon — perhaps.  We  are  now  running  into  the 
depot  where  Garfield  was  shot. 


CHAPTEK  X. 

will  not  detain  the  club  in  Washington ; 
having  only  run  in  from  the  front  on  a  sort  of 
24-hours'  furlough  to  secure  some  necessary 
supplies,  make  a  change  in  clothing,  and  to  procure  some 
refreshments. 

Everything  of  interest  about  Washington  has  been  so 
fully  written  up  that  there  is  but  little  to  be  added  to  the 
volumes  that  have  been  printed  about  the  Capitol.  The 
old  boys  of  the  war  will  miss  many  of  the  old  landmarks, 
such  as  the  guard-houses  and  the  once  too-familiar  foot- 
steps of  the  patrol  of  the  provost  marshal  that  we  all  had 
to  dodge  nightly  when  meandering  through  the  dark  ways 
of  Hooker's  Division.  The  old  "Canterbury "  theatre  has 
disappeared,  also  its  brass  band  accompaniment  that 
paraded  the  avenue  every  evening,  followed  by  a  mob  of 
contrabrands,  its  four  pieces  making  more  noise  than  Gil- 
more's  modern  band.  In  its  place  there  are  a  couple 
of  dime  theatres,  located  on  the  flanks  of  the  division, 
which,  by  the  way,  continue  to  do  business  at  their  old 
stands. 

Judiciary  Square,  which  is  directly  in  the  rear  of 
the  City  Hall,  at  the  head  of  4|  street,  was  during 
the  war  almost  entirely'  occupied  with  blocks  of  frame 
barracks,  then  used  as  one  of  the  general  hospitals.  Some 
of  these  buildings  remained  after  the  close  of  the  war, 

225 


226  ON"   THE    WAR-PATH. 

being  used  on  one  occasion  as  the  place  for  holding  an 
inaugural  ball.  Where  these  long,  narrow  frame  build- 
ings once  stood,  is  now  a  beautiful  park,  the  cosy  seats 
and  Avalks  shaded  by  trees  that  have  grown  since  the  war 
on  this  soil  made  rich  by  the  blood  of  many  poor  boys. 
On  the  northern  side  of  this  park  and  extending  along  its 
entire  length  of  two  full  squares,  attracting  attention  by 
its  size,  is  a  red  brick  structure,  probably  the  largest  public 
building  in  Washington,  except  the  Capitol.  It  is  sup- 
posed to  be  architecturally  in  the  style  of  an  Italian  palace, 
but  it  looks  like  an  immense  machine  shop  or  factory. 
This  is  the  Pension  oflice,  in  which  the  late  inaugural  balls 
have  been  held.  We  will  step  inside  for  a  moment  only; 
while  we  stand  on  one  of  the  galleries  and  admire  its  beau- 
tiful interior,  permit  me  to  give  you  a  few  facts  and  fig- 
ures for  future  recollection,  from  which  each  may  form 
his  own  conclusions. 

First  offering  a  personal  explanation,  I  was  an  employe 
in  this  Department  for  about  three  days,  during  which  I 
had  enough  to  satisfy  me  for  the  balance  of  my  life.  A 
closer  study  of  the  institution  since,  has  served  to  further 
develop  and  confirm  the  first  impressions.  I  should  state 
that  I  spent  a  considerable  part  of  the  three  months  imme- 
diately following  Mr.  Harrison's  inauguration  about  this 
big  building,  endeavoring  to  secure  the  employment  which 
when  found  only  lasted  three  days.  Some  of  my  friends 
seemed  to  think  that  I  was  not  fit  for  any  other  duty  but 
some  sort  of  "  Secret  Service,"  and  they  imagined  that 
the  most  available  place  for  me  was  to  look  after  "  pension 
frauds." 


ON  THE   WAR-PATH.  227 

On  account  of  Civil  Service  rules.  I  was  disbarred  as  a 
clerk,  though  no  one  questioned  my  fitness  for  the  duties. 
Mr.  Tanner  yielding  to  the  pressure  of  friends  and  desiring 
to  relieve  my  necessities,  graciously  notified  me  one  day  that 
if  I  would  accept  a  subordinate  position  temporarily  he  would 
see  that  I  was  properly  "assigned"  and  subsequently  "placed" 
where  I  could  do  most  good.*  I  accepted  and  was  at  once 
"  assigned  "  as  messenger.  I  did  not  mind  the  subordinate 
position  as  long  as  there  was  any  chance  for  advancement, 
but  I  did  object  suddenly  and  emphatically  to  the  servile 
and  menial  duties  required  of  messengers.  I  found  that 
the  principal  use  in  life  of  a  messenger  in  the  Pension 
office  was  to  wait  upon  a  lot  of  young  clerks — veterans 
asked  to  perform  this  service  for  school-boys.  It  was  work 
that  could  better  have  been  done  by  boys.  I  drew  the  line  the 
first  day  at  carrying  water  for  a  couple  of  airish  old  maids. 
I  don't  object  to  handing  a  lady  a  drink  of  water ;  but 
when  it  came  to  supplying  them  with  toilet  water,  I 
kicked  and  appealed  to  the  Chief ;  unfortunately  he  was 
a  recent  appointee  from  a  New  England  State,  who  had 

*"The  Tribune's  Washington  correspondent,  Maj.  J.  O.  Kerbey,  has  been 
notified  by  his  personal  friend,  Corporal  Jim,  now  Hon.  James  Tanner, 
Commissioner  of  Pensions,  that  he  will  receive  an  appointment  as  a  Special 
Examiner  when  these  changes  are  made.  Colonel  Quay,  Mr.  Scull,  and 
others  of  our  State  who  knew  Mr.  Kerbey  and  endorsed  him  as  a  worker 
who  wielded  a  sword  in  war  as  vigorously  as  he  has  a  pt  n  in  peace,  for  the 
party,  think  that  the  author  of  the  "Boy  Spy"  is  especially  competent  to 
fill  this  position  by  reason  of  his  familiarity  with  the  "  boys'  "army  meth- 
ods in  war  and  by  a  long1  training-  since  as  a  searcher  after  "  facts  "  for  the 
press.  There  is  an  extensive  field  in  the  Pension  Service,  and  Mr.  Tanner 
is  fortunate  in  having-  in  his  department  a  comrade  who  will  no  doubt  use 
his  abilities  to  help  the  soldier  Commissioner  to  make  a  good  record  for  the 
Administration.  We  understand  the  Major  preferred  a  Consulate  in  the 
Pacific,  but  we  are  glad  he  -will  remain  nearer  home,  and  his  duties  will  not 
be  so  onerous  that  the  Tribune  readers  cannot  occasionally  hear  from  him. 
The  pay  is  $2,000  per  year  and  $6  per  day  additional  for  traveling  expenses." 


228  ON  THE   WAR-PATH. 

served  the  last  six  months  of  the  "War  as  a  guard  at 
Longbridge,  and  though  the  head  of  a  division,  he  knew 
absolutely  nothing  of  the  duties,  and  being  under  obliga- 
tions to  his  clerks,  and  anxious  to  maintain  his  popularity 
with  the  ladies,  lie  misrepresented  me  to  the  Commissioner. 
I  called  on  Mr.  Tanner,  and  finding  he  had  "shelved  me" 
and  had  no  intention  of  promoting  me,  I  handed  in  my 
resignation  in  words  more  emphatic  than  elegant,  but 
subsequently  made  a  more  courteous  explanation  to  Secre- 
tary Noble. 

There  are  employed  in  this  building  alone  some  1,500 
persons.  If  I  were  to  venture  an  opinion  here,  it  would 

be  to  the  effect  that  one-half    this   number,  under   the 

* 

management  of  a  good  business  house,  would  accomplish 
twice  as  much  work  and  for  one-half  the  pay. 

Altogether  there  are  over  4,000  employes  in  the  Pension 
service  throughout  the  country.  The  expenses  of  the  entire 
Pension  establishment  in  1888  was  83,2C2,524.67,  and  in 
1890  will  aggregate  in  round  numbers  $4.000,000.  The  pen- 
sions paid  in  1888  were  $82,038,386.59,  or  31  per  cent  of  the 
entire  expense  of  the  government  in  that  year.  In  1890 
the  increase  in  pension  list  will  exceed  considerably  $100,- 
000,000,  of  course,  also,  with  an  increased  ratio  of  expense. 
Pensions  already  paid  exceed  one  billion  of  dollars.  Pen- 
sions are  now  being  granted  to  almost  every  applicant 
who  can  show  any  service  or  disability,  however  short  or 
slight.  In  addition  to  this  generous  administration  of  the 
bureau,  there  have  been  passed  3,380  special  acts  that  were 
not  within  the  power  of  the  commissioner  to  grant. 


ON  THE   WAR-PATH.  229 

These  are  a  few  of  the  facts  and  figures  which  an  old 
soldier  of  1861  to  1865,  who  does  not  draw  a  pension 
though  fully  entitled  to  it,  asks  the  comrades  to  paste  in 
their  hats  and  study  over  at  leisure.  The  dependent  pension 
bill  has  passed  and  will  undoubtedly  become  a  law,  which 
adds  limitless  millions  to  the  sum  chargeable  to  old  soldiers. 
This  pension  business  is  delicate  ground,  but  I  cannot,  as 
a  disinterested  comrade,  refrain  from  offering  the  sugges- 
tion to  the  real  veteran  "boys"  to  call  a  halt  on  this  pen- 
sion army  that  is  marching  under  the  leadership  of  the 
pension  generals  and  guided  by  sharks,  up  the  avenue  bent 
upon  a  raid  upon  the  Treasury.  Recall,  boys,  the  memor- 
able spectacle  of  the  grand  review  which  we  saw  swinging 
up  the  avenue  in  1865,  without  one  thought  of  the  treas- 
ury, their  eyes  only  strained  towards  the  generals  on  the 
reviewing  stand. 

Is  it  not  degrading  to  us  all  to  be  called  pension  pau- 
pers? Does  this  latter-day  raid  not  take  the  bloom  off  our 
glory  and  stain  these  once  stainless  flags?  Don't  let  us 
all  join  this  army  of  raiders — remember  there  is  a  here- 
after, patriotism  should  not  be  so  cheaply  discounted  and 
future  generations  must  not  be  taught  to  look  upon  the 
old  soldier  as  representing  a  mendicant  statue,  with  a  hat 
in  hand,  but  instead,  an  erect,  noble,  manly  warrior  with 
a  gun  in  hand.  As  a  comrade  I  believe  in  the  largest 
measure  of  justice,  recognition  and  generosity  to  the  sol- 
dier; to  him  every  honor  and  every  reward  is  due.  These 
pension  bills  and  all  this  agitation  are  not  in  the  interest 
of  the  real  soldier  who  enlisted  early  from  patriotic  motives 
and  stayed  late  from  a  sense  of  duty  and  not  for  bounty, 


230  ON    THE    WAK-1'ATH. 

but  in  that  of  a  remorseless,  soulless  lobby,  who  is  using 
the  soldier's  name  to  rob  the  very  government  lie  fought 
to  save.  The  sentiment  is  general  that  the  soldier  who 
helped  to  save  the  country  is  entitled  to  everything.  But 
reflect,  there  have  been  other  wars  and  other  soldiers  and 
other  countries  have  been  saved.  Prussia's  was  created  by 
Frederick,  yet  this  entire  pension  list  did  not  amount  to  a 
week  of  our  expenditure.  England  fought  Napoleon  for 
twenty  years,  making  a  debt  of  three  thousand  million  and 
her  army  did  not  demand  extra  thousands  of  millions  for 
pensions.  Germany  has  fought  three  wars  since  ours, 
yet  her  pension  fund  to-day  is  not  quite  nine  millions 
a  year.  We  are  paying  to  our  pension  survivors  a  greater 
amount  than  is  required  to  maintain  a  standing  army  in 
Europe.  We  believe  in  justice  to  the  soldier,  but  it  is  not 
to  be  found  in  this  rascally  pension  ring  lobby.  It  is,  in  a 
sense,  as  much  of  a  job  of  the  ring  as  that  to  pay  the  Con- 
federate loan  previously  noted.  Nearly  all  sensible  men 
concede  that  this  money  goes  to  pension  agents,  money 
sharks  and  professional  soldiers,  the  robbery  is  being  done 
by  using  the  honored  name  of  the  soldier,  because  the 
scamps  realize  too  well,  that  such  a  name  may  even  atone 
for  a  crime.  If  the  object  is  to  disburse  the  surplus,  the 
soldier  is  undoubtedly  entitled  to  the  first  grab,  but  the 
objection  to  this  argument  is  that  it  is  sectional.  The 
money  goes  East,  North  and  West,  and  not  South,  and 
the  South  has  been  contributing  her  full  share  for  years  to 
increase  this  surplus.  The  Confederates  get  along  with- 
out pensions  and  they  returned  to  devastated  homes  and  are 
now  thrifty.  It  is  said  there  are  more  pension  certificates 


OX   TUK   WAR-PATH.  231 

mailed  to  foreign  parts,  principally  Germany  and  Canada, 
than  go  South  of  Mason  and  Dixon's  line.  In  one  regard 
the  pension  list  is  a  benefit  and  it  will  do  more  to  prevent 
future  wars  than  Mr.  Elaine's  arbitration  scheme. 

These  are  a  few  abrupt  facts  for  the  consideration  of 
old  soldiers.  I  can  only  suggest  the  general  remedy  to  the 
effect  that  all  pension  legislation  should  be  made  to  deal 
directly  with  the  pensioner  and  do  away  with  all  inter- 
mediaries. If  the  fees  and  emoluments  that  arise  from 
the  business  of  the  pension  sharks  were  cut  off,  the  agita- 
tion would  cease.  I  know  there  are  laws  and  rules  appar- 
ently restricting  the  attorney  to  a  certain  small  fee,  but 
we  all  understand  fully  that  notwithstanding  these  guards 
hat  legislators  think  they  put  around  their  laws,  the 
agent  reaps  a  richer  harvest  than  the  intended  benefici- 
aries. There  are  many  Avays  of  evading  these  restrictions. 
No  law  can  be  enacted  that  will  prevent  a  pensioner  doing 
as  he  pleases  with  money  after  his  warrant  has  been  turned 
into  currency.  If  some  sort  of  a  general  law  could  be 
passed,  paying  pensions  direct,  monthly,  through  the 
Postoffice  and  War  Department  and  abolishing  all  the 
present  cumbersome  machinery  of  the  department,  simply 
requiring  of  the  applicant  a  local  surgeon's  certificate  of 
disability,  attested  by  the  State  or  County  official,  where 
he  is  known,  it  would  save  millions  in  expense  and  won- 
derfully facilitate  the  payment  of  claims.  In  the  aggre- 
gate the  expenditure  would  not  exceed  that  paid  to  the 
army  of  pension  office  clerks,  but  this  will  never  be.  This 
inside  ring  which  thrives  by  this  system  is  all  powerful  at 
Washington  and  they  work  in  harmony  with  the  outside 


232  ON   THE   WAR-PATH. 

ring  or  army  of  claim  agents.  It  will  be  patent  to  the  most 
casual  observer  that  the  pension  business  "pays,"  else  there 
would  not  be  so  many  engaged  in  it.  It  will  also  be  apparent 
that  the  small  fees  allowed  each  attorney  do  not  of  themselves 
justify  or  account  for  so  great  an  income  in  the  financial 
standing  of  the  brokers,  who  have  no  other  visible  means 
of  support.  The  principal  pension  agents  have  silent 
partners  who  are  employed  in  the  pension  office.  The 
most  careful  management  will  fail  to  detect  the  general 
collusion  of  prominent  pension  officials  with  the  attorneys 
outside.  All  dismissed  pension  employes  immediately 
engage  in  the  pension  business.  The  chiefs  of  each  divis- 
ion are  appointed,  and  do  not  come  under  the  Civil  Ser- 
vice rules.  They  are,  as  a  rule,  selected  by  political  pref- 
erment or  from  other  influences.  They  know  less  of 'the 
duties  than  the  sub-chiefs,  and  are,  of  course,  subject  to 
the  policy  of  their  "  influence."  In  my  very  brief  service 
in  the  pension  office,  /  detected  a  newly -appointed  chief  in 
communication  with  the  head  of  a  prominent  pension 
attorney  outside,  on  the  business  of  his  office  and  making 
suggestions  or  giving  official  information.  /  have  the  proof 
of  it.  The  thought  occurs:  if  that  could  be  discovered 
accidentally  in  so  short  a  time,  what  a  broad  field  there 
might  be  for  further  investigation!  If  the  claim  agent's 
profitable  business  could  be  taken  away  from  him,  there 
would  be  no  incentive  to  the  political  demagogue  to  make 
trade  and  capital  out  of  the  business,  nor  for  the  old  sol- 
dier to  worry  himself  into  fevers  of  restlessness  and  dis- 
content. These  agents  mail  broadcast  throughout  the 
laud,  at  low  rates  of  postage,  weekly,  millions  upon 


ON   THE    WAR  PATH.  233 

millions  of  circulars,  urging  the  soldiers  to  apply  for  pen- 
sions, offering  him  every  possible  inducement  to  do  so, 
specifying  increases,  and,  by  exaggerated  terms,  outline 
the  opportunities  that  these  agencies  afford  all  soldiers  to 
easily  secure  a  share  of  the  surplus.  In  this  way  thou- 
sands of  worthy  soldiers  have  been  induced  to  make  appli- 
cation for  pensions  on  account  of  disabilities  that  most 
probably  result  from  their  increased  age,  who  would  not 
otherwise  have  thought  of  it.  No  great  injustice  is  done, 
perhaps,  but  once  an  old  soldier  gets  his  mind  on  a  pen- 
sion, it  practically  unfits  him^for  work.  They  are  led  by 
these  flowery  circulars  to  believe  that  the  Government  owes 
them  a  living  the  balance  of  their  days,  which  they  are 
anxious  to  pay,  and  they  put  in  their  time  waiting  and 
waiting.  I  know  of  one  pension  office  annex,  as  it  is 
sometimes  called,  because  of  the  private  business  being  so 
extensive,  that  publishes  a  weekly  paper  wholly  devoted 
to  the  agitation  of  the  pension  business  of  this  one  man. 
It  is  said  that  this  paper  has  been  sent  out  to  the  extent  of 
250,000  weekly — not  as  bona  fide  subscribers,  but  as  "sam- 
ple copies"  to  a  "free  list"  of  names  obtained  from  the 
records  of  the  Government  of  all  survivors  now  known. 
To  such  an  extent  was  this  abuse  of  the  sample  copy  law 
carried  that,  to  my  certain  knowledge,  the  postal  authori- 
ties felt  compelled  to  take  steps  to  prevent  their  service 
being  loaded  down  with  such  frve  advertising.  This 
is  simply  using  the  Government  facilities  to  incite  or 
encourage  persons  to  file  claims  that  may  not  be  just 
nor  proper,  and  which  creates  discontent  among  the 
people  with  the  Government,  where  the  promised  relief  is 


234  ON   THE    WAR- PATH. 

not  granted,  as  the  recipient  of  these  papers  are  led  to 
expect.  This  weekly  trade  paper  for  claim  agents  formerly 
enjoyed  quite  a  large  circulation.  The  cost  of  subscription 
being  placed  so  low  as  to  be  within  the  reach  of  all.  The 
apparent  policy  of  its  management  being  to  afford  soldiers 
an  opportunity  of  "fighting  their  battles  o'er" — its  col- 
umns are  opened  to  free  contributions  from  all  sections  of 
the  country.  In  this  way  barrels  of  material  are  gathered, 
from  which  selections  may  be  made  and  printed  without 
expense.  On  account  of  its  free  circulation  the  advertis- 
ing space  is  of  course  valuable  and  eagerly  sought  and  used 
by  other  unprincipled  schemers.  No  advertisement,  how- 
ever, of  a  competing  claim  agent  is  admitted  to  its  col- 
umns, but  that  class  of  advertisers  which  are  rejected  by 
all  respectable  publications  find  it  a  convenient  medium  to 
expose  their  loathsome  and  villainous  schemes.  Prizes  are 
offered  also,  and  in  divers  ways  the  management  succeed 
in  obtaining  many  applications  for  pensions,  which,  when 
granted,  may  come  back  to  them  through  their  variously 
advertised  schemes. 

There  are  now  some  twenty  local  G.  A.  R.  papers  being 
published  throughout  the  United  States.  The  ex-soldiers 
are  not  now  dependent  upon  any  one  "organ."  Neither 
are  they  under  any  obligations  to  the  self-styled  "  soldiers' 
papers."  On  the  other  hand  the  proprietors  and  claim 
agents  are  indebted  to  bhe  ex-soldier  contributing  of  their 
all;  which  amounts,  perhaps,  to  millions. 

These  hordes  of  claim  agents  are,  in  no  sense,  friends  of 
the  soldiers,  except  so  far  as  it  may  promote  their  own 
purely  selfish  ends.  A  poor  soldier  would  fare  sadly  at 


ON   THE   WAK-PATH.  235 

their  hands  if  he  appealed  personally  for  enough  to  get  a 
cup  of  coffee.  I  know  something  of  this  by  personal 
observation;  as  serving  to  illustrate  the  point  I  mention 
an  actual  occurrence. 

A  soldier  who  contributed  some  material  for  a  certain 
soldiers'  paper  enjoying  a  large  circulation  among  veterans, 
was  having  some  hard  luck  for  which  he  was  in  no  sense 
responsible,  either  from  bad  habits  or  management,  ap- 
pealed to  the  wealthy  claim  agent  who  was  a  director  in  a 
bank  in  which  a  note  for  the  small  sum  of  $30  was  due, 
asking  the  favor  of  an  endorsement  for  an  extension, 
explaining  that  unless  it  was  granted  he,  the  soldier, 
would  be  legally  notified  to  vacate  his  house,  his  family 
being  practically  put  upon  the  streets.  Sufficient  money  to 
secure  the  endorser  would  be  due  and  in  their  agent's  hands 
in  a  few  days.  This  "friend  of  soldiers"  refused  in  most 
ungentlemanly  terms  to  even  "consider  "  the  matter.  In 
a  few  days  following  he  generously  and  publicly  contrib- 
uted $100  to  a  Post  charity  as  an  advertisement.  He  did 
not  imagine  the  "poor  soldier"  would  ever  be  able  to  give 
him  the  benefit  of  this  advertisement. 

In  my  newspaper  scouting  through  the  late  Confed- 
eracy in  late  years,  I  have  met  in  a  business  as  well  as  in  a 
social  way,  quite  a  good  many  prominent  ex-Confederates, 
with  whom  I  have  talked  freely  about  the  war;  more 
especially  in  regard  to  the  personalities  of  the  leaders 
of  both  sides.  In  discussing  the  death  of  '/  Stonewall " 
Jackson  I  found  there  was  a  remarkable  reticence  in  regard 
to  it  and  a  disposition  to  quietly  change  the  subject. 
On  several  occasions,  on  referring  to  the  rumors  of  his 


236  ON   THE   WAR-PATH. 

having  courted  death,  I  was  met  by  the  retort  :  "  Didn't 
your  Secretary  Stanton  commit  suicide?"  While  I  have 
always  resented  the  imputation,  it  has  occurred  to  me  that 
some  one  who  knows  should  forever  put  to  rest  this  im- 
pression, which  has  become  quite  general  throughout  the 
country,  probably  because  of  this  appearance  of  mystery 
and  studied  avoidance  of  any  discussion  of  the  manner  of 
Mr.  Stanton's  death,  as  in  that  of  Jackson's.  At  the  time 
of  the  sad  occurrence  I  was  employed  in  a  confidential 
capacity  in  the  telegraph  office  in  Washington  City.  I 
confess  that,  from  some  private  telegraphic  correspondence 
that  passed  through  my  hands  at  the  time,  I  gathered  the 
impression  that  Mr.  Stanton  had  in  a  fit  of  mental  aber- 
ration done  something  that  at  least  was  an  indirect  cause 
of  his  death.  The  rumor  that  was  carefully  suppressed 
then  was  that  he  had  cut  his  throat  with  a  razor,  the 
wound  being  of  such  a  dreadful  character  as  to  cause 
almost  instant  death.  The  fact  is  significant.  Xo  one 
was  permitted  to  see  Mr.  Stanton  after  death,  which 
occurred  in  the  double  brick  house  on  K  street,  opposite 
Franklin  Square,  now  owned  by  Senator  John  Sherman. 
My  purpose  in  referring  to  it  is  not  to  re-open  any  old 
wounds,  but  to  afford  the  proper  person  an  opportunity  to 
dispel  the  cloud  of  mystery  that  hangs  over  our  War  Sec- 
retary's death.  He  is  buried  at  Oak  Hill,  Georgetown. 
I  would  suggest  that  the  G.  A.  R.  do  this  great  man  the 
honor  of  removing  his  bones  to  Arlington,  where  they 
might  appropriately  rest  under  the  shadow  of  the  stone 
columns  that  once  stood  as  portals  to  the  old  War  Depart- 
ment building  and  that  have  recently  been  placed  over  the 
gateway  at  Arlington. 


ON  THE   WAR-PATH.  23? 

It  is  well  known  that  Mr.  Stanton  made  many  enemies 
among  his  own  people  during  the  war,  and  subsequently 
he  had  his  trouble  with  President  Johnson.  Upon  Gen- 
eral Grant's  ascendancy  to  the  White  House,  the  ex-Sec- 
retary desired,  and  his  friends  expected,  him  to  be  made 
one  of  the  Justices  of  the  United  States  Supreme  Court, 
as  a  just  reward  for  his  services.  That  he  was  entitled  to 
the  honor  and  fully  capable  of  filling  tne  position  was  not 
questioned  by  even  his  enemies;  but  for  some  reason  Presi- 
dent Grant  hesitated  in  making  the  appointment,  which 
fact,  it  is  supposed,  bore  heavily  on  the  mind  of  the  great 
Secretary,  as  savoring  of  a  country's  ingratitude,  and  may 
have,  with  other  troubles,  tended  to  unhinge  the  great 
mind.  The  nomination  was  made,  however,  a  short  time 
before  his  death,  but  it  came  too  late,  like  the  promotion 
of  many  others  of  our  war  heroes. 

It  is  sad  to  reflect  that  so  many  of  our  war  generals'  lives 
after  the  war  were  made  miserable  by  the  seeming  neglect 
and  indifference  of  the  Government  to  their  great  services. 
It  is  said  General  Meade  died  of  a  broken  heart,  and  we  all 
know  the  gallant  Warren  suffered  keenly  from  his  degra- 
dation by  General  Sheridan — he  requested  that  he  should 
not  be  buried  in  his  uniform. 

General  Hancock's  grave,  in  the  corner  of  a  little  church- 
yard in  Norristown,  Pa.,  is  unmarked  by  even  a  simple  head- 
stone, and  weeds  almost  conceal  the  low  green  tent  under 
which  the  great  hero  of  Gettysburg  sleeps.  McClellan, 
Hooker,  Pope,  McDowell  and  Burnside,  who  were  com- 
manders of  the  Army  of  the  Potomac,  are  dead,  but  who 
can  tell  where  they  sleep  the  sleep  that  knows  no  w&king? 


238  ON  THE  WAR-PATH. 

Among  the  survivors  are  some  who  have  suffered  a  living 
death  for  a  quarter  of  a  century,  like  Patterson  and  Fitz- 
John  Porter. 

In  this  connection  permit  me  to  call  attention  to  a  re- 
markable instance  of  a  country's  ingratitude  to  a  war  hero, 
who  yet  lives  a  slow-torturing  death,  right  under  the 
shadow  of  the  Capitol.  Gen.  Alfred  Pleasonton — my  dear 
old  General,  on  whose  staff  the  records  of  the  AVar  Depart- 
ment will  show  I  served  until  June  .'50,  ISG-i,  or  until  pro- 
moted— walks  the  streets  of  Washington,  a  lonely,  almost 
forgotten  poor  old  man,  but  retaining  his  old-time  military 
bearing  and  courteous  manner.  Though  poverty-stricken 
and  almost  in  destitute  circumstances,  he  remains  the  gen- 
tleman— one  of  those  quiet,  elderly,  distinguished-looking 
men  who  would  attract  attention  in  any  crowd,  whatever 
may  be  his  condition.  He  is  always  neatly  dressed,  his 
face  cleanly  shaved,  with  the  exception  of  a  gray  mustache. 
No  matter  who  may  address  him,  whether  a  tramp,  or  a 
newsboy,  or  a  senator,  he  will  rise  to  his  feet  and  remain 
standing  at ''attention"  while  conversing;  yet  this  great 
old  hero  is  to-day  a  beggar,  almost  an  abandoned  outcast, 
disheartened,  his  life  bitterly  soured  because  of  neglect. 

It  makes  me  sad  whenever  I  see  Major-General  Alfred 
Pleasonton  about  the  hotel  corridors  that  he  haunts  here, 
for  there  is  a  grand  memory  of  his  war  history  that  is  fas- 
cinating to  any  man  who  answered  to  "  boots  and  saddles," 
and  drew  rein  and  saber  during  those  dreadful  days  of  the 
Rebellion.  The  sadness  comes  from  the  knowledge  that 
the  man  who,  first  of  all  Generals  in  the  Eastern  army,  made 
the 'cavalry  a  power,  and  accomplished  the  work  that 


ON  THE   WAR-PATH,  239 

mounted  forces  are  supposed  to  be  used  for.  Gen.  Pleas- 
onton — "Cavalry  Pleasonton" — is  so  often  confounded 
with  his  brother,  Gen.  Augustus  H.  Pleasonton,  that  I 
will  explain  here  that  the  subject  of  my  sketch  has  no 
middle  name — just  Alfred,  a  king  of  cavalrymen. 

Alfred  Pleasonton  was  born  here  in  Washington  nearly 
sixty-five  years  ago,  while  his  father  was  one  of  the  treas- 
ury auditors,  and  in  1840  went  to  West  Point  under  an 
appointment  at  large  from  President  Van  Buren.  He  duly 
graduated  in  1844  into  the  2d  Dragoons  (now  the  2d 
Cavalry),  and  from  that  time  until  his  resignation  from 
the  army  in  1866  his  record  was  an  important  part  of  the 
history  of  the  mounted  service. 

The  Rebellion  had  not  progressed  very  far  when  Pleas- 
onton, then  promoted  to  major,  was  made  a  general  officer, 
and  went  to  the  Army  of  the  Potomac  as  a  Cavalry  Divis- 
ion commander,  and  in  June,  1863,  succeeded  Stoneman 
in  command  of  all  the  cavalry  of  the  Army  of  the  Potomac. 

At  the  fateful  battle  of  Chancellorsville  he  was  in  the 
right  center  of  the  field  when  "  Stonewall "  Jackson  passed 
close  around  our  front  to  fall  upon  and  drive  the  llth 
Corps  from  the  field,  and  it  was  he  who  discovered  the 
movement  and  held  the  Rebels  in  check  for  twenty  min- 
utes, until  troops  came  to  close  the  fatal  gap  on  Sickles's 
right  that  Hooker  had  left  open.  There  was  no  infantry 
available,  but  Pleasonton  hastily  gathered  several  batteries 
and  got  them  to  work  to  check  the  well-conducted  Rebel 
advance,  and  then,  when  all  seemed  lost  (to  gain  the 
imperatively  needed  time),  called  the  bravest  major  in  all 
his  command  and  hurled  him  on  the  Rebel  front  with  a 


240  ON  THE   WAR-PATH. 

battalion  in  as  desperate  a  charge  as  that  at  Balaklava, 
that  is  so  fumed  in  song  and  story.  The  gallant  boy-major, 
a  Pennsylvanian,  and  more  than  two-thirds  of  his  gallant 
officers  and  men  lay  in  front  of  that  fringe  of  pine  saplings 
when  the  help  came  that  held  the  line,  but  the  day  was 
saved  for  all  that.  I  have  heard  that  when  the  young 
Major  got  his  order  he  drew  saber,  rode  up  to  Pleasonton 
and,  saluting,  said:  "Good-bye,  General;  I'll  hold  them 
whether  I  come  back  or  not."  I  have  seen  General  Pleas- 
onton's  blue  eyes  very  suspiciously  moist  when  that  has 
been  talked  of  in  his  presence,  and  I've  heard  him  say: 
"  It  had  to  be  done,  no  matter  at  what  cost,  to  save  10,000 
lives,  and  the  Major  was  the  only  man  in  all  the  command 
I  could  depend  upon  thoroughly  to  do  it." 

When  the  cavalry  was  organized  into  a  corps  in  June, 
1863,  he  was  placed  in  command  with  Buford,  D.  McM. 
Gregg  and  Kilpatrick  as  his  division  commanders,  and  the 
work  done  in  less  than  a  month  made  him  a  major-general 
and  changed  the  general  opinion  as  to  the  value  of  cavalry 
in  field  operations.  The  Gettysburg  campaign  showed  how 
far  superior  Pleasonton  was  to  "Job."  Stuart,  the  Eebel 
commander,  in  the  duties  pertaining  to  cavalry  service,  for 
he  was  outwitted  and  outfought  through  all  that  cam- 
paign; but  it  remained  for  the  famous  cavalry  duel  at 
Brandy  Station,  a  month  later,  between  those  two  leaders 
to  demonstrate  the  all-around  superiority  of  the  Union 
over  the  Eebel  cavalry.  There  Stuart  held  a  knoll  from 
which  the  ground  sloped  easily  away  on  every  side,  and  the 
broad  surrounding  fields  were  yet  crossed  by  fences, 
between  which  ran  narrow  lanes,  through  which,  in  one 


ON  THE  WAR-PATH.  241 

instance,  part  of  our  force  was  obliged  to  charge  in  column 
of  fours  for  lack  of  time  to  throw  down  fences.  Not  a 
piece  of  artillery  was  used  on  either  side,  but  after  a  time 
Pleasonton  drove  Stuart  completely  off  the  field,  and  the 
Rebels  never  again  won  a  general  cavalry  engagement  in 
the  East. 

Pleasonton  in  1866  was  offered  the  colonelcy  of  one  of 
the  new  infantry  regiments,  but  with  a  cavalryman's  dis- 
dain for  such  service  refused  the  offer  and  indignantly 
resigned.  When  General  Grant  became  President,  he  made 
Pleasonton  collector  of  internal  revenue  for  that  district  in 
New  York  City  that  included  then  Wall  street  and  all  the 
down-town  banks  and  brokers'  offices,  in  which  was  col- 
lected the  largest  revenue  of  any  district  in  the  whole 
country.  Later  on  Grant  called  him  here  to  Washington 
and  made  him  Commissioner  of  Internal  Revenue.  No 
matter  what  may  be  said  otherwise  of  Alfred  Pleasonton, 
no  man  ever  dared  even  hint  at  his  dash  as  a  soldier  or  his 
unswerving  integrity  in  official  life.  Commissioner  Pleas- 
onton found  that  a  great  railway  corporation  had  been 
evading  its  taxes,  and  he  proceeded  to  make  it  pay  a  num- 
ber of  millions  it  owed.  He  began  by  grabbing  every  loco- 
motive that  ran  into  the  chief  central  town  on  its  line 
(after  he  had  exhausted  every  other  means  in  his  power  to 
compel  payment),  and  within  a  few  hours  the  road  found 
itself  almost  crippled,  while  the  danger  of  total  stoppage 
was  increasing.  A  wild  appeal  for  compromise  was  made 
to  Pleasonton.  "Pay  up  your  dues  to  the  United  States." 
Specious  representations  were  made  to  President  Grant, 
and  despite  Pleasonton's  protests,  General  Grant  suspended 


243  ON   THE    WAR-PATH. 

the  order  so  as  to  allow  passenger  traffic  temporarily. 
Pleasonton  resigned  the  same  day,  and  refused  all  further 
offers  of  political  preferment.  The  House  passed  a  bill  to 
make  him  Colonel  on  the  retired  list,  cutting  him  down  to 
Major— the  rank  he  held  when  the  first  volunteers  were 
sent  to  the  field  twenty-seven  years  ago.  Men  who  have 
been  dismissed  the  service  for  various  military  offenses  are 
restored  by  almost  every  succeeding  Congress,  with  the 
rank  they  would  have  held  had  they  remained  continuously 
in  service,  and  it  seems  as  if  General  Pleasonton  might 
have  been  granted  that  rank,  notwithstanding  his  recent 
mistakes  and  bitter  speeches,  resulting  from  his  neglect. 
Recently  I  met  Gen.  Pleasonton  in  the  reading  room  of 
Willard's  Hotel,  saluting  in  the  old  style,  and  introducing 
my  little  boy  Fred  to  him  with  the  remark:  "My  boy, 
this  is  my  dear  old  army  father,  Gen.  Pleasonton,  the  man 
who  told  us  what  to  do  in  war  and  we  had  to  obey,  if  we 
knew  it  killed  us."  He  greeted  my  little  boy  so  pleasantly 
and  talked  so  kindly  of  his  father,  that  I  confess  to  a  few 
silent  tears  over  the  interview.  As  he  seemed  to  be  in  the 
mood  for  talking  over  old  times,  I  reminded  him  of  a  con- 
versation I  once  heard  between  himself  and  General  John 
Buford,  in  which  they  were  discussing  the  question  of 
Buford's  promotion  to  be  Major-General,  with  Custer, 
Kilpatrick  and  Gregg.  "Yes,"  said  the  General,  "I 
remember  that  talk  distinctly;  I  kept  telling  Meade  he  had 
better  hurry  his  own  promotion,  because,  you  know,  we 
were  all  expecting  the  Western  fellows  would  come  in  with 
Grant,  and  as  they  were  Stanton's  favorites  they  would 
rank  us  out  of  our  old  commands.  Meade  was  an  easy- 


ON  THE   WAR-PATH.  243 

going  fellow,  you  know;  we  used  to  call  him  an  old  woman, 
and  some  of  them  nick-named  him  'rabbit  ears.5  Well, 
he  always  said  that  he  had  already  made  the  recommend  a- 
tipns  and  done  all  he  could  in  his  official  way  to  secure 
the  promotions;  but  you  know  Meade  was  not  the  man  to 
press  such,  matters,  besides  the  War  Department  was  always 
working  against  us  of  the  old  Army  of  the  Potomac. 
Stanton  was  afraid  of  us  Union  Generals  who  happened  to 
be  born  South.  I  am  a  native  of  the  District  here  and 
Buford  was  born  in  Kentucky." 

I  interrupted  here,  saying:  "  Buford  was  as  staunch  a 
loyalist  as  Thomas  or  any  other  Southern  man.  I  belonged 
in  his  brigade,  and  was  attached  to  his  headquarters  long 
enough  to  become  satisfied  of" this  fact,  and  like  everybody 
else,  became  quite  attached  to  the  genial  old  Kentuckian." 

"  Well,"  said  Pleasonton,  "  Buford  died  here  in  Wash- 
ington of  a  broken  heart.  This  is  the  way  it  happened," 
said  the  General,  as  he  drew  up  closer  to  me  and  began  to 
tell  the  story  in  an  earnest  and  half-confidential  manner: 
"  You  know,  of  course,  how  dear  to  the  old  soldier  of  the 
Regular  Army  is  the  question  of  rank.  It  is  a  subject 
ever  uppermost  in  his  mind  and  heart.  Whenever  Buford 
and  I  got  together  long  enough  to  talk,  we  would  get  on 
this  subject  of  rank  and  promotion.  I  told  him  that  I  had 
officially  notified  Meade  that  he  was  entitled  to  his  two 
stars  for  his  Gettysburg  fight,  the  first  day  alone,  and  said 
Meade  always  agreed  with  me  as  to  that.  One  day,  when 
talking  together,  I  said,  jokingly,  '  Say,  Buford,  whenever 
the  Government  at  Washington  hears  that  we  are  danger- 
ously hurt  and  are  sure  to  die,  they  will  give  us  our  rank. 


244  ON   THE   AVAR-PATH. 

They  are  afraid  to  trust  us  Southern  fellows  too  far.' 
Buford  laughed  good-naturedly  about  this  at  the  time,  but 
he  never  forgot  it;  and  he  got  full  of  rheumatism  down  on 
the  Rapidan;  kept  brooding  over  the  matter.  So  one  day  I 
told  him  to  go  up  to  Washington  and  put  himself  under 
the  care  of  the  doctors. 

"  My  idea  at  the  time/'  said  the  General,  "  was  to  have 
Buford  in  Washington,  where  we  had  arranged  that  our 
friends  in  Congress  would  get  to  meet  him  personally.  He 
was  too  much  of  a  soldier  to  hunt  up  political  influence 
himself,  so  Meade,  Gregg  and  some  more  of  us  put  up  this 
scheme;  for  we  all  knew  if  the  President  could  but  see  and 
talk  with  him  it  would  overcome  Stanton's  suspicions,  for 
to  know  Buford  personally  wae  to  love  him. 

"Well,  I  had  on  my  Staff  a  Surgeon  who  was  one  of 
those  good-hearted,  earnest  fellows,  who  wanted  to  do  all 
he  could,  but  at  times  allowed  zeal  to  override  discretion. 
I  sent  this  doctor  along  with  Buford  because  he  had  some 
political  acquaintance — none  of  therest  of  us  had.  Buford 
got  to  Washington,  and,  instead  of  hunting  up  his  friends, 
shut  himself  up  in  his  room  and  was  soon  down  sick  in 
bed.  He  was  away  from  the  army  and  lonely.  There  was 
nothing  serious  the  matter  with  him.  The  doctor  attended 
him  occasionally,  but  put  in  most  of  his  time  at  the  Capi- 
tol among  his  own  friends,  or  getting  up  delegations  to 
call  on  the  President  in  the  interest  of  Buford's  nomina- 
tion. One  day  it  occurred  to  this  fool  doctor  to  tell  the 
President  that  Buford  was  liable  to  die.  Either  the  Pres- 
ident or  Stanton  inquired  particularly  as  to  Buford's 
chances  of  recovery,  and  also  as  to  the  prospect  of  his  dying. 


ON  THE   WAR-PATH.  245 

The  doctor  had  heard  my  joke  to  Buford,  and  his  pleasant 
way  of  taking  it  made  the  doctor  think  that  to  exaggerate 
his  illness  would  hasten  his  promotion.  So  one  day,  with 
this  purpose  in  view,  he  rushed  to  the  War  Department  in 
great  distress  and  told  the  President  and  Secretary  that 
Buford  would  surely  die.  He  told  me  subsequently  that 
he  did  not  say  he  would  die,  or  meant  that  it  was  likely  to 
occur  soon. 

"The  President,  after  conversing  with  Stanton,  author- 
ized the  Surgeon  to  say  to  Buford  that  he  should  have  his 
rank  at  once.  Without  any  other  thought  than  that  he 
was  doing  a  kindness  for  his  General,  the  energetic  little 
Surgeon  rushed  to  Buford's  house,  unceremoniously  en- 
tered the  sick  man's  room  and  blatantly  announced  the 
good  news  to  him. 

"The  doctor  told  me  with  some  show  of  feeling  when  I 
questioned  him  regarding  this,"  said  Pleasonton,  "that 
Buford  looked  at  him  from  his  bed  in  a  dazed  sort  of  way, 
and  without  uttering  a  word  of  thanks,  turned  his  face  to 
the  wall.  He  imagined  the  General  was  so  overcome  by 
the  good  news  that  he  had  simply  turned  his  head  to  hide 
his  overflowing  feelings  of  gratitude,  and,  therefore,  did 
not  disturb  him  for  a  while. 

"  When  he  went  to  him  a  few  moments  afterward,  he 
found  that  General  Buford  had  died  a  Major-General. 

"I  knew  Buford  intimately,  and  there  never  has  been 
any  doubt  in  my  mind  that  the  thought  occurred  to  him 
at  the  time  he  was  so  depressed  in  spirits  that  the  doctor 
had  satisfied  himself  and  the  President  that  his  case  was 
hopeless,  and  the  President  had  agreed  to  gratify  his  wish 


246  ON   THE   WAR-PATH. 

at  the  last  hour.  So  he  turned  his  face  to  the  wall  and 
died  without  saying  a  word." 

But  we  will  have  to  hasten  on  to  Gettysburg.  As  we 
ride  out  toward  Fairfax  C.  H.,  allow  me  to  tell  you  a  short 
story,  which  has  the  unusual  merit  of  being  something 
new  about  Gettysburg,  bearing  on  the  disputed  historical 
question  of  securing  the  position  there,  which  it  is  con- 
ceded was,  in  effect,  making  the  victory  possible.  This 
was  recently  told  to  me  by  General  Pleasonton. 

Everybody  knows  that  Pleasonton  commanded  the  cav- 
alry of  the  Army  of  the  Potomac  during  this  campaign; 
that  he  had  for  his  subordinate  division  chiefs  such  gallant 
men  as  Ouster,  Kilpatrick  and  Buford,  of  the  First,  Sec- 
ond and  Third  Divisions,  which,  by  the  way,  gained  for 
that  army  much  of  the  glory  it  achieved,  for  a  great  por- 
tion of  which  General  Sheridan  gets  the  credit  now. 

Pleasonton  says  that  he  had  the  positive  evidence  that 
Lee  was  making  for  Gettysburg  during  this  Antietam  cam- 
paign of  the  previous  year;  that,  in  anticipation  of  this, 
he  sent  a  Prussian  engineer  officer,  who  was  on  his  Staff, 
whose  name  is  entirely  too  long  to  recall,  with  a  squadron 
of  cavalry  up  to  Gettysburg  in  1802,  and  that  officer  made 
a  topographical  map  of  the  country,  which  is  on  file  to-day 
among  McClellan's  papers. 

Looking  at  the  matter  in  the  light  of  professional  sol- 
diers, Pleasonton  and  McClellan  concluded  that  Lee  had 
wisely  selected  Gettysburg  or  some  adjacent  point  for  a 
battle-ground,  because  all  the  roads  to  Washington,  Balti- 
more, Philadelphia  and  Harrisburg,  as  well  as  toward  the 
South,  centered  or  crossed  there.  It  was,  on  this  account, 


ON  THE    WAR-PATH.  247 

strategically  a  good  point  for  rapid  concentration,  which 
is  one-half  of  every  battle.  Besides  this,  he  could  there 
fight  with  the  South  Mountains  like  a  great  wall  at  his 
back,  the  Potomac  on  one  flank  and  the  Susquehannah  on 
the  other.  In  cases  of  disaster,  the  round  passes  of  the 
mountains  would  protect  his  retreat. 

Now,  Pleasonton  asserts  that,  with  this  knowledge 
obtained  the  year  previous,  he,  as  chief  of  cavalry,  sent 
Buford  out  to  Gettysburg  to  secure  the  position  outlined 
on  the  topographical  map,  in  anticipation  of  Lee's 
intended  concentration  there. 

However  the  statement  may  be  disputed,  we  all  know 
that  Buford  did  go  out  there  with  his  cavalry,  and,  after  a 
careful  and  personal  examination  of  the  country,  he  took 
the  necessary  precautions  to  hold  the  ground  until  the 
Army  of  the  Potomac  should  come  up. 

It  is  well  known  that  it  was  Buford's  cavalry  that 
brought  on  the  engagement  the  first  day,  and,  with  the 
assistance  of  Reynolds'  Corps,  the  cavalry  first  drove  and 
then  held  in  check  the  advance  of  General  Lee's  army  of 
veterans. 

I  said  to  Pleasonton:  "  Why  do  you  never  attend  any 
of  the  numerous  army  reunions  and  recite  these  things? 
When  Sickles  mentioned  your  name  at  the  Gettysburg 
reunion,  recently,  as  being  as  worthy  of  promotion  as  were 
Napoleon's  Field  Marshals  for  your  work,  then  it  raised  a 
small  tornado  of  applause  among  the  old  boys  who  lis- 
tened." 

"No,"  said  Pleasonton,  in  his  quiet  and  modest  way; 
"  I  never  go  to  such  places;  they  are  only  graveyards  to 


'.MX  ON    TIIK    W.VK-PATH. 

inc.     Some  of  my  best  friends  on   lx>th  sides  were  killed 
t  hero. 

"It's  just  us  Sickles  says  about  Gettysburg — those 
Penn.sylvania  fellows  who  an-  booming  that  town  don't 
want  anybody  but  their  own  crowd  to  have  anything  to  do 
H  jth  Gettysburg." 

••  Hut,  General,  you  must  remember  that  it  was  the 
Pennsylvania  generals,  Reynolds.  Hancock  and  Meade, 
who  fought  that  battle." 

"It  was  lluford  and  Reynolds,  my  boy,  who  saved  that 
day  and  made  the  victory  possible;  "  but  they  seem  to 
have  overlooked  a  couple  of  other  Pennsylvania  men,  two 
of  our  cavalry  boys,  (Jregg  and  Rodciibough. 

If  we  were  not  in  so  great  a  hurry  to  reach  the  battle- 
field of  Gettysburg,  it  would  have  been  more  agreeable 
and  entertaining  to  the  Travel  Club  to  have  driven  from 
Washington  via  the  upper  Potomac  road  outpost,  the 
Chain  Bridge.  Great  Falls  and  Cabin  John  bridge,  enjoy- 
ng  the  beautiful  and  romantic  scenery  of  this  historic 
locality. 

There  are  some  interesting  legends  associated  with  this 
river  road. 

On  the  southern  side  of  the  aqueduct  bridge,  curious, 
if  not  supernatural,  sounds  are  heard  on  quiet  nights. 
These  resemble  so  nearly  the  roll  of  a  drum  that  it  has 
given  rise  to  the  belief  in  the  minds  of  some  of  the  con- 
trabands living  near  by  that  the  noises  there  are  produced 
by  the  ghost  of  a  Federal  drummer  boy  who  ran  away 
from  his  home  and  was  drowned  at  this  point  while  cross- 
ing in  the  darkness.  There  id  no  doubt  about  the  noises, 


ON  THE   WAR-PATH.  249 

and  their  mysterious  origin  is  a  cause  of  wonderment  to 
intelligent  people  therabouts. 

Immediately  above  the  bridge  will  be  seen  a  group  of 
three  large  rocks  arising  from  the  middle  of  the  river,  on 
the  surface  of  which  grow  some  beautiful  aquatic  plants. 
These  are  universally  known  as  the  "  Three  Sisters."  The 
story  told  to  the  crowds  of  young  people  who  daily  enjoy 
the  excursions  up  and  down  this  lovely  stream  is  that 
General  Braddock  and  his  friends  had  captured  or  stolen 
three  beautiful  Indian  princesses  which  they  held  as  hos- 
tages. These  high-toned  young  ladies,  preferring  death 
to  imprisonment  and  the  society  of  these  English  gentle- 
men, bound  themselves  together,  after  the  manner  of  the 
"  Three  Graces,"  each  holding  a  stone  in  hand  as  a  sinker 
or  anchor,  plunged  into  the  stream  and  were  drowned  at 
this  point.  Their  bodies  were  never  recovered.  The  fol- 
lowing morning  those  three  rocks  appeared  above  the 
water  to  mark  their  watery  graves. 

There  is  no  doubt  about  this  story,  as  the  rocks  may 
be  seen  by  anyone  who  may  be  incredulous  about  it. 

We  will  get  off  the  train  at  Fairfax  Station,  where 
conveyances  meet-us,  and  as  we  drive  the  four  rough  miles 
to  General  Hooker's  headquarters  at  Fairfax  Court-house, 
permit  me  to  tell  you  something  funny  about  the  Kebel 
money.  This  was  an  actual  occurrence  and  tends  to  illus- 
trate the  low  estimation  in  which  our  soldiers  in  the  field 
held  Confederate  money.  Perhaps  not  one  of  the  boys 
ever  imagined  a  time  would  or  could  come  when  any  value 
could  attach  to  Confederate  bonds. 

"  I  believe  that  I  can  honestly  claim  to  have  made  the 


250  ON   THE   WAR-PATH. 

biggest  bet  on  record  in  a  poker  game,"  said  an  early  vet- 
eran of  the  war,  who  was  one  of  a  recent  group  of  com- 
rades engaged  in  a  social  game  of  "  draw  "  in  Washington. 
"  How  much  was  it?"  asked  another  player  who  had 
just  thrown  down  his  hand  with  the  exclamation  that  it 
was  "  Only  nine  high."  "  Two  million  dollars"  said  the 
old  soldier  placidly.  A  series  of  "whews"  came  from  the 
rest  of  the  party,  but  the  Washington  veteran  in  poker 
was  not  in  the  least  disconcerted.  ' '  It's  a  fact,  as  sure  as 
you  are  living  sinners,"  he  exclaimed,  "  and  if  you  will 
listen  I'll  tell  you  how  it-  came  about."  For  a  minute  or 
more  the  game  was  suspended,  while  the  veteran  talked: 
"We  were  in  winter  quarters,  in  1862,  near  White  Oak 
Church,  Virginia.  Each  regiment  took  its  turn  in  doing 
picket  duty,  and  it  was  the  good  luck  of  the  corps  to  which 
I  was  attached  to  have  captured  a  paymaster's  wagon,  con- 
taining I  can  not  say  how  many  million  of  bills  and  bonds." 
"Oh,  I  see,"  interrupted  one  of  the  group,  "it  was  Con- 
federate money."  .  "Your  head  is  level,  "  replied  the  vet- 
eran, "  but  still  it  was  money,  and  gave  the  boys  who  made 
the  capture  the  opportunity  for  playing  the  heaviest  game 
of  poker  ever  heard  of.  The  ante  was  $100  and  there  was 
no  limit,  hence  you  may  conceive  there  was  some  lively 
betting. 

"In  the  fray  something  like  $5,000,000  of  the  stuff 
came  into  the  possession  of  myself  and  my  three  tent  mates, 
and  as  soon  as  we  got  back  to  camp  we  started  the  game. 
I  had  fairly  good  luck  at  the  start,  but  after  awhile  the 
paste  boards  went  back  on  me  and  I  rarely  got  a  pair 
bigger  than  deuces.  This  went  on  until  my  pile  had 


ON    THE    WAR-PATH.  251 

been  brought  down  to  about  $2,000,000.  There  was  a 
$1,000  jack-pot  and  when  I  picked  up  my  hand  I  found 
I  had  the  invariable  deuces. 

"The  man  next  to  me  opened  the  pot  for  $1,000.  The 
next  man  and  myself  saw  him  and  then  we  drew.  Each 
of  the  others  took  three  cards,  but  I  contented  myself  with 
one.  When  it  came  my  turn  there  was  $2,000  to  put  up, 
and  without  lifting  my  hand  I  raised  the  last  better 
$2,000,000.  This  drove  the  man  next  to  me  out  and  left 
the  field  clear  for  myself  and  one  opponent.  He  delib- 
erated a  long  time,  counted  over  his  pile,  which  contained 
just  a  little  more  than  the  amount  of  the  bet,  and  then 
threw  up  his  hand. 

"  When  I  looked  at  my  cards  I  found  that  I  had  not 
bettered  my  two  deuces.  My  opponent  threw  down  a  pair 
of  kings. 

"  I  ascertained  later  that  at  that  very  time  certain 
Southern  sympathizers  in  Washington  and  Baltimore  were 
paying  5  cents  on  the  dollar  for  Confederate  money,  and  I 
wanted  to  kick  myself  for  not  having  known  it  sooner. 

"  I  have  understood  that  agents  have  been  quietly 
gathering  up  the  bonds  for  some  years." 


CHAPTER  XL 

C.  H.  and  vicinity,  once  populated  by 
100,000  of  the  Army  of  the  Potomac,  would  now 
seem  like  a  deserted  village  to  any  of  the  old 
army  boys  who  might  revisit  the  place.  We  will  only  tarry 
here  long  enough  to  take  a  photograph  of  the  spot  once 
occupied  by  General  Hooker  as  the  headquarters  of  the 
Army  of  the  Potomac,  from  which  so  much  intrigue  relat- 
ing to  his  removal  from  the  command  was  concocted. 

At  this  point  we  again  take  our  horses  and  ride  along 
over  the  same  old  war-path  we  traveled  with  headquarters 
in  1863. 

On  this  occasion  our  path  is  a  pleasant  one,  following 
the  old  pike  leading  through  Aldie  and  the  gap  through 
the  mountains  to  Winchester. 

It  was  along  here  that  I  had  the  thrilling  experience 
with  Mosby's  guerillas. 

On  my  return  from  Washington,  I  brought  back  with 
me  quite  a  heavy  official  mail  for  cavalry  corps  headquar- 
ters. At  that  time  Pleasonton  happened  to  be  at  Aldie, 
leaving  quite  a  gap  between  there  and  Hooker's  headquar- 
ters at  Fairfax. 

I  supposed,  of  course,  this  road  leading  to  our  front 
was  safe  enough.  Being  well  mounted,  I  dashed  on  ahead 
of  the  ambulance,  which  was  carrying  the  mail. 

This  old  pike,  as  you  will  observe,  is  laid  out  on 
straight  lines.  The  early  surveyors  of  roads  worked  on 

252 


Otf  THE   WAR-PATH.  253 

the  bee-line  principle,  going  up  hill  and  down  dale,  with- 
out any  regard  to  the  theory  that  it  might  be  the  nearest, 
as  well  as  the  best  way,  to  go  around  a  hill  instead  of 
mounting  it,  thereby  avoiding  useless  grades,  and  often 
contending  with  obstacles  in  the  path  that  might  easily 
have  been  flanked. 

From  the  top  of  one  hill  the  discouraged  traveler  sees 
the  long  and  narrow  road  ahead  of  him,  stretching  for 
miles  over  other  hills  and  through  swaths  of  forest. 

On  galloping  out  here  in  that  beautiful  June  evening, 
I  observed  ahead  of  me  some  distance  what  I  supposed  to 
be  a  wagon-train,  turning  off  for  evening  camp.  Riding 
along  leisurely  until  within  gunshot,  my  attention  being 
attracted  by  some  signs  of  activity,  which  is  of  so  unusual 
a  character  about  packing  wagon-trains  that  my  curiosity 
was  aroused.  Noticing  a  house  off  the  road  a  short  dis- 
tance, I  rode  into  the  yard  to  make  some  inquiries.  A 
bareheaded  woman  with  a  baby  in  her  sleeveless  arms 
kindly  handed  me  a  drink  of  water.  I  asked  her  in  a 
careless  manner:  "What  is  going  on  up  there  in  the  mid- 
dle of  the  road  ?  " 

"They  done  captured  all  them  wagons." 

"Who  captured  them?" 

"  Why,  soldiers,  of  course." 

"Yes,  but  what  soldiers?" 

"  Why,  Mosby's  men,  sah." 

That  was  enough.  I  had  run  right  into  a  gang  of 
mounted  guerillas,  and  had  in  my  possession  a  number  of 
important  papers  about  our  army.  I  pulled  my  little 
fatigue  cap  over  my  face,  took  a  short  hold  of  my  bridle 


ON   THE    AVAR-PATH. 

reins,  turned  my  horse's  head  into  the  road,  and,  instead 
of  turning  up  to  walk  into  the  trap,  as  they  had  expected, 
I  gave  the  poor  horse  an  inch  of  spur  at  every  jump  as  I 
turned  back. 

As  soon  as  my  reverse  movement  was  discovered,  a  vol- 
ley was  fired  at  me;  guerillas  came  after  me,  not  so  well 
mounted  as  I,  yelling  and  firing  at  me  on  the  run.  It  was 
a  pretty  race  for  about  two  miles  along  this  straight  line. 
I  won.  If  I  had  not,  this  absolutely  true  story  would 
never  have  been  told.  When  I  got  back  to  headquarters 
and  reported  to  the  Chief-of-Staff,  he  at  once  sent  out, 
under  rny  guidance,  the  cavalry  escort,  composed,  I  think, 
of  Bush's  Lancers,  or  "  turkey-drivers,"  as  we  called 
them.  Before  we  reached  the  place  we  heard  the  sounds 
of  explosion,  and  soon  saw  rising  above  the  treetops  great 
clouds  of  white  smoke.  The  officer  in  charge  of  the 
escort  halted  his  men  and  observed  to  me:  "Ko  use  in 
going  out  there;  those  fellows  have  got  more  than  they 
bargained  "for,  if  they  set  fire  to  those  wagons  supposing 
they  were  destroying  stores — it's  an  ammunition  train/' 
So  we  waited  till  the  clouds  rolled  by,  and  late  in  the  even- 
ing reached  Aldie  and  reported  to  General  Alexander, 
Chief-of-Staff,  to  whom  the  recital  of  my  adventure  seemed 
to  be  very  amusing,  as  he  laughed  heartily. 

One  of  the  curious  things  to  the  young  generation 
about  our  war  stories  is  the  apparent  indifference  amongst 
comrades  to  the  fate  of  their  companions.  They  look 
upon  death,  perhaps,  as  a  sort  of  blessed  relief  from  some 
of  the  horrors  of  army  life.  When  I  read  nowadays  of  the 
burial  of  a  G.  A.  E.  comrade  with  appropriate  military 


ON   THE   WAR-PATH.  255 

houers,  the  brass  band  accompaniments,  the  firing  over 
the  grave  by  the  "awkward  squad/'  and  witness  the  ten- 
derness with  which  the  remains  covered  by  the  "  Old 
Glory  "  are  handled,  my  mind  unconsciously  reverts  to  a 
soldier's  burial  on  the  field. 

It  may  not  be  a  good  thing  to  put  in  cold  type,  but  it 
did  seem  to  me  that  in  a  great  majority  of  cases  there  was 
more  eagerness  to  relieve  the  dying  soldier  of  any  valuables 
he  might  have  than  to  offer  him  physical  comfort  or  relig- 
ious consolation.  Most  of  the  dead  soldiers  would  be 
found  with  their  pockets  turned  inside  out.  Of  course, 
it  is  understood  that  in  every  regiment  there  were  a  few 
unprincipled  wretches  who  stealthily  pursued  these  ghoul- 
ish practices. 

The  poor  fellows  of  the  cavalry  advance,  who  died  in 
the  very  front,  and  sometimes  beyond  the  front,  in  the 
dangerous  cavalry  skirmish  line,  are  sleeping  in  the  lonely 
almost  lost  graves  scattered  "  on  the  advance  line  "  all  the 
way  from  Fredericksburg  to  Gettysburg.  There  are  hun- 
dreds of  these  lost  graves  of  forgotten  heroes.  In  truth, 
our  "war  path"  might  be  appropriately  marked  by  an 
almost  continuous  line  of  monuments.  One  of  the  most 
painful  remembrances  of  the  cavalry  soldier's  burial  is  the 
sight  of  a  dead  comrade  laid  over  a  horse  like  a  bag  of 
potatoes,  a  companion  leading  while  another  holds  in  place 
the  dead  man.  Ambulances  could  scarcely  be  used  on 
these  mountain  roads,  and,  besides  this,  the  cavalry  were 
generally  out  of  reach  of  them  when  needed. 

The  cavalrymen  of  the  Army  of  the  Potomac  will 
recognize  all  this  country.  It  was  their  ground  and  right 


256  ON   THE  \VAR-PAT3. 

nobly  they  earned  their  spurs  here.  It  was  Pleasanton's 
Cavalry  that  reported  to  Hooker  the  daily  movement  of 
Lee's  army  in  its  march  to  Gettysburg.  The  cavalry  of 
the  Confederates,  under  command  of  J.  E.  B.  Stuart,  were 
somewhere  in  our  rear  on  a  raid  around  our  entire  army. 
But  Pleasanton  paid  no  attention  to  them,  as  he  said  "Oh, 
I  don't  want  any  stern  chase  after  Meb.'  I  have  something 
more  important  in  my  front  here." 

Stuart's  raid  was  a  failure  and  the  movement  a  source 
of  much  annoyance  and  embarrassment  to  General  Lee. 
It  is  seldom  that  a  poor  scout  gets  any  credit  for  his  dan- 
gerous work,  yet  Generals  Lee  and  Longstreet  officially 
report  that  to  the  individual  effort  of  their  scout  Harrison 
is  due  the  entire  credit  of  performing  alone  the  service 
that  was  expected  of  General  Stuart  and  his  cavalry  corps. 
It  was  the  scout  Harrison  who  first  reported  to  General 
Lee,  when  at  Chambersburg,  the  important  information 
that  Hooker  was  on  his  rear  and  had  that  day  crossed  the 
Potomac.  The  intelligence  caused  General  Lee  to  change 
his  advance  movement,  and  probably  saved  the  city  of 
Harrisburg,  Pa. 

The  services  of  the  scout  are  thankless  but  valuable. 
His  life  is  always  in  jeopardy,  as  I  know  by  bitter  experi- 
ence. There  is  in  some  minds  a  vague  impression  that  the 
work  of  a  spy,  or  a  scout,  is  dishonorable,  or  that  the  ser- 
vice necessarily  implies  treachery  and  deceit.  This  is  so 
only  in  the  same  degree  that  the  strategy  of  a  general  is 
treacherous.  Strategem  as  an  art  of  war  is  considered  to 
be  honorable,  yet  it  is  seldom,  if  ever,  applied  without 
resorting  to  the  aid  of  the  scout.  A  spy  or  scout,  there- 


ON  THE   WAR-PATH. 

fore,  may  be  inspired  by  as  patriotic  motives  as  the  general 
and  army  whom  he  serves.  It  is  the  motive  which  should 
give  character  to  any  service.  With  me,  this  secret  service 
was  in  no  sense  mercenary,  and  became  in  a  manner 
almost  involuntary.  I  never  received  one  cent  for  it,  but 
obtained  that  which  is  more  lasting  and  which  I  value  more 
highly  than  gold  as  a  reward,  and  that  is  a  commission 
signed  by  A.  Lincoln  and  E.  M.  Stanton.  As  a  special 
reward  this  parchment  was  antedated  a  year,  to  March  3, 
1863.  So  that  in  fact  I  was  an  officer  in  the  regular  arm)' 
while  wearing  the  uniform  of  an  enlisted  man.  My  service 
was  almost  altogether  of  a  special  or  detached  character,  as 
a  telegrapher,  signalist  and  scout  at  headquarters. 

On  this  ground,  and  not  that  I  make  any  pretensions 
to  superior  attainments,  I  base  any  claim  for  having  ,had 
the  opportunity  of  having  seen  as  much  of  the  war  as  any 
other  person.  I  went  as  I  pleased,  enjoying  all  the  privi- 
leges of  a  headquarters  man,  and  perhaps  I  was  a  keen 
observer. 

"We  will  ride  leisurely  over  the  good  road  from  Aldie 
through  the  beautiful  pastoral  scenery  of  Loudoun  County 
to  Leesburg.  We  might  halt  a  short  time  in  this  old  Vir- 
ginia town,  deviating  a  little  from  our  route  to  visit  Ball's 
Bluff,  the  scene  of  the  battle  or  massacre  at  thai  point. 
It  is  not  an  agreeable  affair  to  dwell  upon.  We  hurriedl} 
ride  down  to  the  Potomac,  the  beautiful  Upper  Potomac, 
which  has  been  to  so  many  a  Rubicon  and  a  river  of  death 
md  oblivion. 

We  cross  at  Point-of- Rocks,  a  most  picturesque  place. 
The  ferryman  with  his  overhead  rope  and  current  for 


^58  ON   THE    W AH- PATH. 

motive  p<fc7er  points  out  the  piers  of  tho  old  bridge  burned 
by  the  armies  which  has  never  been  rebuilt.  .  It  would  be 
impossible  for  me  to  make  a  pen  picture  of  the  grandly 
beautiful  and  historic  spot.  Nearly  all  the  old  boys  will 
remember  the  precipitous  hills,  the  rocky  cliffs  under  which 
the  canal  and  railroad  curve.  A  little  ways  up  the  river 
are  the  mountains  about  Harper's  Ferry.  I  sat  on  the 
edge  of  the  boat  as  we  slowly  crossed  the  stream,  taking  it 
all  in  again,  perhaps  for  the  last  time. 

For  the  boys  and  girls  and  those  of  the  club  who  have 
never  seen  this  country,  Willie  Hazard  and  I  secured,  from 
our  own  camera,  a  number  of  the  most  striking  views. 

From  the  Potomac  river  to  Frederick,  as  it  is  called  in 
Washington  and  Braddock's  Journal  or  "orderly  book/' 
is  a  half-day's  uninteresting  ride.  The  scenery,  as  viewed 
from  the  top  of  the  mountains  over  which  the  road  leads 
us,  is  grand,  but  the  roads  are  so  execrable  that  we  can 
not  enjoy  it,  so  we  hu.-ry  along  in  a  sort  of  sullen  silence 
toward  Frederick. 

The  near  approach  to  this,  one  of  the  finest  old  towns  p.; 
Maryland,  is  suggested  by  the  frequent  appearance  of  toll- 
gates,  a  feature  we  had  not  met  in  our  previous  weok's 
travel. 

The- roads,  however,  are  improving,  so  that  we  cheer- 
fully pay  this  Maryland  protection  tariff  on  Inter-state 
commerce.  Here  we  find  farms  in  the  most  improved  con- 
dition, elegant  homes  are  scattered  along  the  great  high- 
way, giving  us  the  pleasing  impression  that  we  have  come 
into  a  more  cultivated  civilization. 

At   Frederick   we  drive  to  the  Gi'j  Hotel,  at  which 


ON   THE   WAK-PATH,  259 

headquarters  were  domiciled  in  June,  1863.  This  was  an 
old-fashioned  country  tavern,  the  best  of  its  day,  in  the 
rear  of  which  was  an  immense  yard  with  stables,  where  the 
farmers  were  accustomed  to  keep  their  horses.  It  was  a 
hostelry  that  afforded,  as  the  sign  said,  "Entertainment 
for  man  and  beast/' 

The  headquarters  horses  filled  the  yard  and  stables 
while  the  officers  filled  the  house  and  were  in  turn  filled 
by  the  landlord  barkeeper. 

It  was  the  Sunday  before  the  battle.  Ouster  was  with 
us.  Eight  over  the  street  from  the  hotel  was  a  drug  store, 
the  name  on  the  sign  I  remember  distinctly  as  being 
Schley.  The  family,  as  was  usual  in  such  country  towns, 
lived  above  the  store.  Daring  the  Sunday  we  stayed  there, 
Ouster,  the  handsome,  dashing,  boyish-looking  general, 
with  long  hair  and  short  jacket,  sat  by  the  window  of 
the  hotel  parlor,  which  was  also  upstairs,  and  carried 
on  a  flirtation  with  a  couple  of  young  ladies  who 
were  at  the  windows  opposite.  He  became  so  much 
interested  in  this  new-found  delight,  that  he  had  appar- 
ently quite  forgotten  all  about  his  cavalry,  which  were 
scouting  around  somewhere  on  the  South  Mountains.  I 
was  quite  interested  too,  but  was  not  able  to  find  out  how 
it  all  ended.  So  on  the  occasion  of  this,  my  first  revisit,  I 
at  once  looked  for  that  sign,  almost  expecting  to  see  the 
same  pretty  faces  of  the  young  girls,  after  twenty-five 
years,  again.  But  I  was  disappointed  in  this,  but  in  the 
innocence  and  guilelessness  of  an  old  boy  heart,  I  began  to 
ask  the  hotel  clerk  about  the  whereabouts  of  the  Misses 
I  supposed,  of  course,  that  Frederick  hotel  clerks 


260  ON  THE    WAR- PATH. 

were  like  all  the  others  of  that  class,  and  knew  everything. 
I  related  to  him  and  the  crowd  about  the  desk,  the  story 
of  Ouster's  flirtation,  until  my  humorous  recital  was  made 
suddenly  sad  by  the  gentlemanly  clerk's  reply  to  a  ques- 
tion as  to  her  present  whereabouts  coupled  with  the  sug- 
gestion that  I'd  like  to  make  a  call  on  the  lady. 

"  Yes,  sir,  the  Miss  Schley  that  was  is  living  in  this 
house  now.     She  is  my  wife,  sir." 


CHAPTER  XII. 

"E  are  now  on  the  war-path  within  sound  of 
the  booming  of  BuforcTs  guns  that  opened 
the  ball  at  Gettysburg.  We  will  hurry  the 
club  along  over  the  roads  from  Frederick,  via  Emmetts- 
burg,  stopping  long  enough  to  take  some  striking  views  of 
the  points  that  every  one  who  was  "  thai "  will  recognize, 
such  as  the  toll-houses  near  Frederick,  the  romantic  points 
on  the  mountain  road  beyond  Emmettsburg. 

Gettysburg  has  been  done  and  overdone  so  thoroughly 
that  your  guide  will  spare  the  club  any  infliction  of  his 
own  experience.  Volumes,  yes,  libraries  that  maybe  meas- 
ured by  the  cubic  foot,  have  been  written  about  Gettys- 
burg. Monuments  have  been  erected,  indicating  the 
location  of  almost  every  Federal  regiment  that  was  here 
engaged,  and  at  the  dedication  of  each  and  every  one  the 
orators,  poets  and  glee  clubs  told  the  assembled  survivors 
many  things  that  had  not  entered  their  minds  before. 

I  admit  that  I  have  contributed  my  mite  to  the  mass  of 
contemporaneous  history  that  has  been  printed  about  this 
great  battle. 

I  have  no  desire  to  fight  it  over  again  with  the  club,  and 
refer  to  the  innumerable  guide-books,  so-called  histories, 
and  modestly  suggest  that  the  unpretending  story  of  the 
observations  of  the  ' '  Boy  Spy  "  be  included  in  the  study. 

In  all  the  war  literature,  I  have  yet  to  see  discussed  the 
fundamental  question,  "What  can  a  soldier  see  from  the 
ranks  ?  " 

261 


262  ON   THE    WAR-PATH. 

The  youth  of  to-day  reading  or  studying  war  articles, 
as  published,  without  first  knowing  the  rudiments  of  war, 
the  conception  of  space  and  numbers  in  a  great  battle  is 
confined  to  a  very  small  limit,  his  general  idea  of  a  battle 
such  as  Gettysburg  is  confined  to  the  limits  of  the  blocks 
of  the  small  village  where  all  of  it  could  be  seen  without 
difficulty. 

My  definition  of  a  line  of  battle  to  the  Travel  Club,  in 
as  few  words  as  I  can  express  it,  would  be  a  continuous 
double  line  of  men,  the  length  of  the  line  depending  upon 
the  number  engaged.  There  are  supporting  lines  in  the 
rear  of  this  main  line  and  these  are  shifted  to  the  different 
parts  of  the  field  where  they  can  do  the  most  good,  as  is 
demonstrated  as  the  battle  progresses. 

The  main  line  is  interspersed  with  the  artillery,  sup- 
ported by  infantry  or  dismounted  cavalry. 

A  full  regiment  of  infantry  in  line  of  battle  will  occupy, 
say,  a  thousand  feet.  A  brigade  of  five  regiments  will 
cover  about  a  mile  in  length.  So  it  will  be  seen  that  an 
army  like  that  of  the  Federals,  comprising  a  force  of  100,- 
000  men,  will  be  in  a  crowded  condition  on  a  battle  line  of 
ten  miles.  The  area  at  Gettysburg  during  the  three  days' 
manoeuvres  was  something  less  than  twenty-five  miles. 

Waterloo  was  the  shortest  line  in  proportion  to  the 
number  engaged.  Napoleon  had  two  miles,  Wellington  a 
mile  and  a  half,  72,000  men  on  each  side. 

From  this  density  came  the  carnage  60,000  dead,  or 
41  per  cent.  At  Gettysburg  the  official  reported  casual- 
ties aggregated  55,000. 

I  have  only  attempted  in  the  "Boy  Spy"  papers  to 


OX   THE    \VAR-PATII.  203 

tell  what  I  actually  saw  of  Gettysburg.  Being  on  detached 
service  at  headquarters,  I  went  as  I  pleased  wherever  it 
was  safe  to  go,  and  I  think  I  saw  as  much  of  Gettysburg 
as  any  other  one  person. 

When  you  read  or  hear  of  any  of  our  large  battles  writ- 
ten by  a  soldier  in  the  ranks,  you  can  just  put  it  down  that 
he  is  writing  or  talking  about  something  of  which  he  could 
not  possibly  be  cognizant  from  his  own  observation.  Of 
course,  they  can  tell,  in  a  general  way,  something  of  the 
result,  but  they  have  only  eyes  'for  that  which  is  imme- 
diately in  their  front,  and  mighty  little  opportunity  or 
inclination  to  study  the  field,  which  is  frequently  covered 
by  smoke  under  which  reigns  confusion  worse  confounded. 

I  have  been  asked  frequently,  "•  What  were  your  sensa- 
tions in  a  battle?  Were  you  frightened  the  first  time  you 
got  under  fire?" 

I  always  reply  unhesitatingly  that  I  was  scared  the  first 
time  and  every  other  time,  too.  I  never  heard  a  shell 
screech  in  the  air  that  I  didn't  want  to  go  home,  or  a  bul- 
let ping,  but  that  I  wished  with  all  my  heart,  I  hadn't 
come.  The  war  always  seemed  to  be  a  failure  to  me  and  I 
wanted  to  quit  after  every  fight.  We  seldom  had  the  satis- 
faction of  seeing  the  Kebels  run. 

The  "Boy  Spy"  observations  at  Gettysburg  were  pub.- 
lished  first  in  the  war  papers  of  the  Philadelphia  Press 
and  subsequently  collected  and  edited  and  flavored  to  suit 
the  tastes  of  a  trade  pension  paper,  published  weekly  in 
Washington.  When  this  true  story  of  the  first  days  at 
Gettysburg  was  submitted  to  them,  it  was  rejected  with  the 
observation  of  the  editor:  "It  bears  the  ornate  marks  of 


ON   THE   WAR-PATH. 

truthfulness;  but  we  do  not  care  to  print  any  such  reflec- 
tions on  General  Howard,  because,  you  know,  he  con- 
tributes to  our  paper." 

I  may  here  state  that  these  papers  were  "  revised"  to 
suit  certain  selfish  ends,  the  work  being  done  by  a  cash- 
iered army  officer,  now  a  newspaper  hack  who  finds  employ- 
ment at  this  place.  The  Gettysburg  matter  subsequently 
appeared,  somewhat  modified  however,  provoking  no  end 
of  controversy. 

I  beg  to  present  to  the  club  and  to  put  on  permanent 
record  the  autograph  letter  of  that  fighting  old  hero,  Gen- 
eral Doubleday,  which  so  completely  and  voluntarily  sus- 
tains my  statements  that  Howard  was  "rattled,"  as  at  Chan- 
cellorsville,  and  did  not  take  any  steps  to  stop  the  retreat 
or  secure  the  position  until  General  Hancock  came  upon 
the  field. 

Since  the  publication  of  the  "Boy  Spy's"  experience 
and  observation  at  Gettysburg  in  July,  1803,  referring  more 
particularly  to  the  little  personal  fight,  or  battle,  of  the 
first  day  between  the  two  Union  Generals,  Howard  and 
Hancock,  on  Cemetery  Hill,  almost  every  issue  of  the 
paper  has  contained  some  adverse  criticism  or  defense  of 
General  Howard.  These  contributions  have  come  from 
all  sections  of  the  country,  but  I  observe  that,  without 
exception,  they  emanate  from  the  llth  Corps  soldiers. 
This  fact  of  itself  will  be  sufficient  in  the  minds  of  all  the 
old  Army  of  the  Potomac  boys,  but  as  the  editor  has  so 
generously  appropriated  column  after  column  to  the  friends 
of  General  Howard  to  fire  back,  I  have  thought  it  advisa- 


ON   THE   WAR-PATH.  265 

ble  to  give  them  a  cavalryman's  parting  salute.  Perhaps 
the  following  personal  letter  from  General  Doubleday,  who 
succeeded  General  Reynolds  upon  the  latter's  death,  in 
the  command  of  the  1st  Corps  on  the  first  day  of  the 
battle,  relating  to  the  interview  between  Howard  and 
Hancock,  will  be  more  satisfactory  and  conclusive  than 
could  be  supplied  by  any  other  authority,  living  or  dead. 
The  letter  of  itself  is  a  most  interesting  criticism  of  Gen- 
eral Howard's  conduct  as  the  commanding  officer  on  the 
field. 

A  diagram  in  the  old  General's  handwriting  shows 
the  contrast  between  the  arrangements  ordered  by  Howard 
and  Hancock.  This  contribution  to  the  "Boy  Spy" 
papers  not  only  fully  establishes  the  position  I  take,  but 
is  an  important  historical  paper,  bearing  on  the  much- 
discussed  question  as  to  ' '  Who  was  the  hero  of  Gettys- 
burg? "  It  proves  conclusively  that  Hancock,  not  Howard, 
saved  the  position  and  saved  the  day,  the  Army  of  the 
Potomac,  Philadelphia,  Baltimore,  Washington  and  the 
Nation.  Hancock's  ride  to  Gettysburg,  though  not  done 
np  in  song,  poetry  and  painting,  as  was  Sheridan's,  yet  in 
its  results  was  far  more  important  than  Sheridan's  at  Cedar 
Creek. 

MENIIAM,  MORRIS  COUNTY,  K  J.,  August  11,  1889. 
CAPTAIN  J.  0.  KERBY. 

My  Dear  Sir:  I  received  your  article  yesterday  and  read  it  with 
much  interest.  I  thank  you  for  the  kindly  feeling  it  manifested 
towards  myself,  and  it  doubtless  is  a  true  picture  of  what  you  saw  and 
heard.  I  did  not  know  that  I  had  italicized  my  language  in  passing 
through  Gettysburg  to  the  extent  you  indicate,  but  I  must  have 
expressed  myself  in  forcible  terms. 


2GO 


ox  Tin:  WAR-PATH. 


Gettysburg 

- 


As  you  say,  General  Howard  was  unwilling  to  recognize  Hancock 
in  any  other  light  than  that  of  a  volun- 

teer  aid  to  himself,  and  Hancock  did 
ride  over  and  confer  with  me.     I  was 
only  too  glad  to  have  something  done 
.      that  would   tend  to   preserve  the  posi- 


O -U ill 


tion.  The  only  order  Howard  had  issued 
was  for  the  1st  Corps  to  form  on  the 
left  of  the  main  gate  of  the  cemetery 
and  the  llth  Corps  on  the  right.  Let 
me  illustrate  by  a  diagram.  If  this 
idea  had  been  carried  out.  nothing,  in 
my  opinion,  could  Uave  saved  us  from 
capture.  Now,  compare  this  arrange- 
ment with  what  Hancock  did.  I  sent 
Wadsworth  to  the  right  and  Buford 
was  directed  to  make  the  appearance 

of  a  long  line  on  the  left  by  moving  up 

and  down.     This  induced  the  enemy  to 

think  that  we  had  been  reinforced  and 

that  he  occupied  the  whole  ridge. 

I   always    wondered    why    Devens" 

brigade  of  cavalry,  which  was  on  the 

right,   did  not  make  greater  effort   to 

keep   the  enemy  out  of  the  town,   as 

they    were    following    up    the    retreat 

of    the  llth    Corps   in   that   direction, 

but    Devcns'    report,    which    has    only 

recently    been     published,    explains   it. 

He  Bays  he  could  have  driven  the  enemy 

out,    ct   at    least     have    stopped     their 

advance,  but  just  as  he  was  about  to  do 

so   Howard's  guns  on    Cemetery    Hill 

opened  a  severe  tire  against  him,  and  he  concluded  that   the  enemy 

had  taken  the  hill  and  were  assailing  him  on   both   sides,  so  he  gave 

up  the  town  and  retreated.     This  was  the  second  t'ime  that  day  that 

the  cavalry  suffered  from  the  fire  of  our  own  guns. 


ON"   THE   AVAR-PATH.  267 

I  have  told  the  truth  about  Gettysburg,  but  not  the 
whole  truth. 

In  a  subsequent  letter  from  Gen.  Doubleday,  not  for 
publication,  he  says  :  ' '  You  appear  to  have  been  the  only 
witness  to  that  scene  who  was  not  either  a  Staff  officer  of 
Howard's  or  Hancock's,  and  you  have,  no  doubt,  told  a 
straight  story.  You  know  Staff  officers  will  lie  for  their 
chiefs." 

I  have  no  reply  to  make  to  the  personal  abuse  of  the 
numerous  llth  Corps  contributors.  There  is  but  one 
word  to  be  said  to  these  comrades,  and  that  is :  Howard 
said  in  defense  of  his  conduct  that  he  could  not  trust  his 
men  out  there.  Now,  put  that  in  your  pipes  and  smoke  it. 

I  have  often  thought  that  Darwin's  theory  of  the  "  sur- 
vival of  the  fittest "  was  controverted  by  army  experience. 
The  best  soldiers  were  killed,  or  have  died.  It  seems  that 
a  majority  of  the  llth  Corps  are  still  alive,  judging 
from  the  newspaper  fights  of  survivors.  I  can  afford  to 
say  this  :  I  was  not  an  1865  soldier,  nor  a  substitute — not 
even  a  bounty  man.  I  went  in  as  early  as  April  10,  1861, 
and  was  at  Montgomery,  Ala.,  and  at  Fort  Pickens,  Fla., 
in  active  service  before  a  man  was  enlisted;  therefore,  the 
' '  Boy  Spy  "  claims  to  be  the  first  soldier.  1  stayed  till  the 
last,  and  I  do  not  now  get  a  pension,  though  I  am  entitled 
to  it,  but  I  shall  never  ask  it ;  and  I've  been  about  as  close 
to  the  enemy  as  almost  any  soldier  could  get  and  come 
away  again. 

In  this  connection,  I  may  show  to  the  club  also  the 
private  autograph  letter  from  the  widow  of  the  dead  hero, 
bordered  in  deep  mourning.  His  words  were  prophetic  in 
the  light  of  subsequent  events. 


2G8  ON   THE    \VAH-PATH. 

NEW  YORK,  9  West  31st  Street,  "Nov.  20,  1889. 

MA.TOK  J.  O.  KKKKEY. 

Dear  Kir:  Two  days  since  your  very  kind  note  with  enclosures 
was  forwarded  to  me  here  from  Washington  City,  for  which  I  thank 
you  very  much.  To-day  your  interesting  book,  "The  Boy  Spy," 
reached  me  safely.  It  is  needless  to  add  with  how  much  eagerness 
I  turned  to  the  pages  containing  your  observation  of  men  and  events 
as  they  appeared  to  you  upon  that  famous  battle-field  of  Gettysburg 
during  those  memorable  three  days  in  July,  1863.  Words  are  inade- 
quate to  convey  to  you  the  gratitude  that  filled  my  heart  as  I  read  of 
the  well-merited  praise  which  you  have  kindly  bestowed  upon  my 
brave,  good  husband  for  the  service  he  rendered  his  country  on  that 
battle-field.  A  day  or  two  before  my  husband  left  us  for  his  "eter- 
nal home  beyond  the  skies,"  an  officer  requested  a  paper  from  him.  in 
order  that  he  might  reply  authoritatively  to  an  article  which  had  ap- 
peared from  the  pen  of  General  Howard  upon  the  same  subject. 
Said  he:  "  Those  gentlemen  are  not  writing  my  history — but  their  own 
to-day.  The  time  must  come  when  the  truth  will  be  told."  His 
words  were  prophetic.  Each  year  brings  him  nearer  to  the  people,  and 
they  seem  to  understand  him  better — strange  to  say.  I  hope  most 
earnestly  your  delightful  book  will  have  untold  success,  as  it  so  well 
deserves.  The  frank,  bright  style  of  the  narrative  is  truly  very 
taking.  Believe  me,  most  cordially  yours, 

MRS.   WINFIELD  SCOTT  HANCOCK. 

I  have  no  personal  feeling  or  interest  in  the  matter, 
except  to  record  the  facts  as  observed  by  myself. 

Politically,  I  am  a  Republican,  and  voted  in  my  State 
against  Hancock  for  President,  but  I  can  tell  the  truth 
about  a  Democrat  sometimes,  if  I  am  a  newspaper  fiend. 

Lest  my  Republicanism  should  be  questioned  and  a 
partisan  bias  be  attributed  to  some  historical  facts  men- 
tioned in  this  brochure,  I  beg  to  establish  my  political  pref- 
erences by  references  from  "  away  back." 

HE   APPRECIATES  THE   VETERANS. 
Gen.  Harrison's  Pleasant  Letter  to  Maj.  J.  O.  Kerby,  of  Johnstown- 

Special  to  the  Commercial  Oazctte  : 

JOIINSTOWX,  PA., Nov.  5. — A  pleasant  letter  from  Gen.  Harrison, 
which  will  be  of  special  interest  to  all  the  old  Harrison  voters,  was 


ON  THE   WAR-PATH.  269 

received  by  Maj.  Kerbey,  the  Washington  correspondent  and  well 
known  to  G.  A.  R.  men  as  the  author  of  the  "  Boy  Spy."  A  few 
days  ago,  Gen.  Harrison  was  sent  the  following  items  clipped  from 
the  Johnstown  Tribune : 

"Mr.  G.  W.  Kerbey,  the  veteran  agent  of  the  Pennsylvania  Rail- 
road Company  at  Wilmore  for  the  past  thirty-eight  years,  cast  his 
first  vote  for  Harrison  in  1836,  and  in  those  early  days,  when  Mr. 
Harrison  and  his  Presidential  party  were  driving  Westward  over  the 
old  stage  pike,  Mr.  Kerbey  acted  as  one  of  the  mounted  escort  tha 
accompanied  the  party  from  St.  Thomas  to  Loudon,  Pa.,  as  far  as 
the  foot  of  the  mountain,  where  he,  with  others,  shook  hands  with  the 
grandfather  of  the  present  candidate.  Since  then,  Mr.  Kerbey  has 
consistently  voted  the  Whig  and  Republican  tickets.  He  now  has 
three  sons  and  one  grandson  living,  all  of  whom  will  vote  for  the 
present  grandson  of  the  elder  Harrison,  namely:  Joseph  O.  Kerbey, 
Thomas  S.  Kerbey  and  Edgar  T.  Kerbey.  The  grandson  is  Mr.  George 
N.  Kerbey,  a  chemist  of  Pittsburgh.  Mr.  Kerbey  is  also  a  great- 
grandfather. George  N.,  the  son  of  J.  O.,  though  quite  a  young  man, 
is  the  father  of  a  baby-boy,  who  will  perpetuate  the  proud  distinc- 
tion of  this  truly  Republican  household.  Agent  Kerbey  is,  therefore, 
the  father  of  quite  an  extensive  Republican  district.  Mr.  Kerbey  enjoys 
the  distinction  of  being  the  oldest  agent  of  the  Pennsylvania  railroad, 
and  perhaps,  one  of  the  oldest  employes  of  the  entire  system,  being 
appointed  by  his  schoolmate  and  friend,  Mr.  Thomas  A.  Scott,  when 
he  was  assistant  superintendent  at  Pittsburgh." 

A   LETTER  FROM  GEN.   HARRISON. 
His  Appreciation  of  the  Old  Tippecanoe  Voters  in  Cambria  County. 

The  following  autograph  letter  from  Gen.  Benjamin  Harrison,  the 
Republican  nominee  for  President,  was  written  to  Mr.  J.  O.  Kerbey, 
of  Washington,  who  is  in  the  State  campaign  using  his  pen  to  the 
interests  of  the  party. 

INDIANAPOLIS,  IND.,  Nov.  1,  1888. 
J.  0.  Kerbey,  Correspondent  Press  Gallery,  Senate,  Washington,  D.  C. 

MY  DEAR  MAJOR  :  Your  favor  of  the  28th  with  the  Johnstown 
Tribune,  has  been  received.  I  have  read  both  with  interest.  I  wish 
you  would  say  to  your  good  father  that  I  appreciate  very  highly 
both  his  kind  recollection  of  my  ancestor  and  his  friendly  disposition 
toward  me.  The  respect  of  these  venerable  men,  who  have  not  only 
witnessed,  but  of  themselves  done  so  much  to  promote  the  develop- 
ment of  our  country,  is  very  highly  prized  by  me. 

I  shall  be  glad  to  have  the  pleasure  at  some  time  of  meeting  your 
father.  Very  truly  yours, 

[Signed]  BENJ.  HARRISON. 


270  ON  THE  WAR-PATH. 

Though  General  Harrison  had  been  a  very  busy  man  those  last 
campaign  days,  he  found  time,  amid  all  the  bustle  and  excitement 
consequent  upon  the  reception  of  hundredsof  delegations  and  bushels 
of  mail,  to  sit  down  and  write  the  above  very  pleasant  letter,  which 
applies  to  all  old  Cambria  County  Harrison  voters  equally  as  well  as 
to  Mr.  Kerbey ;  and  Mr.  Harrison  did  not  write  for  effect,  either,  for 
lie  knew  that  good  old  Pennsylvania  was  safe  enough  for  him. 

This  is  enough  for  one  day  at  Gettysburg. 

Of  the  second  day,  I  can  only  record  that  as  a  news- 
paper man,  I  accompanied.  President  Cleveland  on  his  first 
visit  to  the  field  and  subsequently  attended  in  the  same 
capacity  the  grand  reunion  on  the  twenty-fifth  anniversary; 
also,  when  Gen.  Sickles  labored  to  explain  how  he  won  the 
battle  at  Gettysburg  by  being  defeated  on  the  second  day. 

The  impression  I  had  gained  about  headquarters  at  the 
time  when  there  was  always  so  much  intrigue  among  the 
comrades,  was  that  Gen.  Sickles  had  played  a  risky  game 
in  the  hopes  of  achieving  some  glory  that  would  give  him 
the  command.  It  was  the  general  talk  about  headquarters 
that  he  had  made  a  serious  blunder,  and  if  lie  hud  not  lost 
his  leg,  he  would  have  lost  his  commission.  This  com- 
prises our  story  of  the  several  battles  of  the  second  day. 

To  most  students  of  war  history,  the  impression  is 
imparted  that  the  principal  fighting  at  Gettysburg  was 
that  known  as  Pickett's  Charge,  which  was,  in  fact,  simply 
the  fire-works  closing  a  series  of  battles  during  the  pre- 
ceding days. 

As  the  Northern  and  Federal  side  of  this  event  has 
already  been  so  well  told,  I  have  thought  it  might  add 
interest  to  the  subject  to  present  some  new  facts  from  the 
Confederate  side. 


OX   THE   WAR-PATH.  271 

A  short  time  ago,  through  some  newspaper  connection, 
I  was  accidentally  put  in  communication  with  a  gallant 
Confederate  newspaper  comrade  whom  I  beg  leave  to 
introduce  to  the  Travel  Club,  as  my  friend,  Capt.  W.  E. 
Bond,  of  Scotland  Neck,  North  Carolina,  editor  of  Roancke 
News,  a  clever  Kebel,  and,  of  course,  a  courteous  Southern 
gentleman,  some  time  an  officer  of  the  Brigade  Staff  of 
the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia,  who  will  speak  to  you  for 
himself  and  his  tar-heel  comrades. 

I  will  now  relate  a  Rebel's  story  of  Gettysburg. 

"  Longstreet's  assault,  or  what  is  generally,  but  very 
incorrectly,  known  as  '  Picket's  Charge,'  has  not  only 
had  its  proper  place  in  books  treating  of  the  war,  but  has 
been  more  written  about  in  newspapers  and  magazines 
than  any  other  event  in  American  history.  Some  of  these 
accounts  are  simply  silly,  some  are  false  in  statement,  some 
are  false  in  inference,  all  in  some  respects  are  untrue. 

"  Nine  brigades,  formed  in  three  divisions,  were  selected 
for  the  assaulting  column.  One  of  these  was  worthless, 
five  had  been  reduced  to  skeletons  by  the  hard  battles  of 
the  two  preceding  days.  Three  only  were  fresh.  The  field 
over  which  they  were  ordered  to  march  slowly  and  deliber- 
ately was  about  1,000  yards  wide,  swept  by  the  fire  of  100 
cannons  and  20,000  muskets.  The  smoke  from  the  pre- 
ceding cannonade  was  their  only  cover. 

"We  all  knew,  when  the  order  to  go  forward  was  given, 
that  Cemetery  Ridge  was  not  defended  by  Mexicans  or 
Indians,  but  by  an  army,  which  in  large  part,  if  not  for  the 
greater  part,  was  composed  of  native  Americans.  An 
army,  which,  if  it  had  never  done  so  before,  had  shown  in 


272  ON  THE  WAR-PATH:. 

the  first  and  second  days'  battles  not  only  that  it  could 
tight,  but  that  it  could  fight  desperately. 

"As  a  rather  extreme  sample  of  the  thousand  and  one 
foolish  things  which  have  been  written  of  this  affair,  I 
refer  our  youth  to  the  article  in  the  St.  Nicholas  some  time 

• 

ago,  in  which,  in  comparison,  language  something  like  the 
following  was  used:  'Those  on  the  left  faltered  and  fled. 
The  right  behaved  gloriously.  Each  body  acted  accord- 
ing to  its  nature,  for  they  were  made  of  different  stuff,  the 
one  of  common  earth,  the  other  of  finest  clay.  Petti- 
grew's  men  were  North  Carolinians;  Pickett's  were  superb 
Virginians/ 

"To  those  people  who  do  not  know  how  the  trash  passing 
for  Southern  history  was  manufactured,  the  motives  which 
actuated  the  writers,  and  how  greedily  everything  written 
about  the  war  was  read,  it  is  not  so  astonishing  that  a  libel 
containing  so  much  ignorance,  meanness  and  prejudice  as 
this  could  be  printed  in  the  Century  papers,  and  believed 
by  the  Northern  readers  to  be  either  entirely  or  partially 
true.  It  looks  like  an  almost  hopeless  task  to  attempt  to 
combat  errors  which  have  lived  so  long  and  flourished  so 
extensively.  But  truth  is  a  trap-gun  before  which  false- 
hood's armour,  however  thick,  can  not  stand.  One  shot, 
or  two,  or  three,  may  accomplish  nothing,  but  keep  on 
firing  and  it  will  be  pierced  at  last,  and  its  builders  and 
defenders  will  be  covered  with  confusion. 

"It  will  scarcely  be  disputed  that  the  Confederate  Army 
of  Northern  Virginia  shed  more  blood  than  all  the  other 
armies  of  the  Confederacy  combined,  and  I  reckon  your 
gallant  Army  of  the  Potomac,  which  confronted  us  so  tena- 
ciously for  years,  can  say  the  same  of  your  side. 


ON"  THE   WAfl-PATH.  273 

"  Of  the  twenty-seven  regiments  which  had  the  most 
men  killed  in  any  battle  of  the  war,  all  but  five  belonged 
to  our  army;  of  these,  three  were  from  Tennessee  and  two 
from  Mississippi. 

"Again,  of  the  twenty-seven  of  those  whose  percentage 
of  loss  was  greatest,  a  very  different  thing,  all  but  five 
belonged  to  our  army;  of  these  Tennessee  had  four  and 
Texas  one.  Virginia,  North  Carolina  and  Georgia  each 
had  about  the  same  number  engaged  at  Gettysburg,  and 
here  soldiers  of  the  old  North  State  met  with  a  greater 
loss  of  killed  and  wounded — for  North  Carolina  troops  did 
not  attempt  to  rival  certain  Virginia  brigades  in  the  men 
captured — than  did  those  from  any  other  State,  and  nearly 
as  great  as  that  from  any  two  States. 

"The  first  Confederate  soldier  killed  was  a  tar-heel,  who 
fell  at  Bethel.  The  last  blood  was  shed  by  Cox's  North 
Carolina  brigade  at  Appomattox.  Why  the  troops  which 
shed  the  first  blood,  the  last  blood,  and  the  most  blood, 
should  be  selected  by  the  Northern  writers  as  of  inferior  or 
common  clay  seems  like  a  problem  hard  to  solve,  but  I 
will  attempt  to  explain  it. 

"  The  world  at  large  gets  its  ideas  of  the  late  war  from 
Northern  sources.  Northern  historians,  when  this  subject- 
is  peculiarly  Southern,  get  their  ideas  from  such  histories  as 
Pollard's,  Cook's  and  McCabe's,  and  these  merely  reflected 
the  opinions  of  the  Richmond  newspapers.  These  news- 
papers, in  turn,  got  their  supposed  facts  from  their  army 
correspondents,  and  they  were  very  careful  to  have  only 
such  correspondents  as  would  write  what  their  patrons 
cared  most  to  read. 


274  ON   THE   WAR-PATH. 

"  During  the  war,  Richmond,  judged  by  its  newspapers, 
was  the  most  provincial  town  in  the  world.  Though  the 
capital  city  of  a  gallant  young  nation,  and  though  the 
troops  from  every  State  thereof  were  shedding  their  blood 
in  her  defense,  she  was  wonderfully  narrow  and  selfish. 
While  the  citizens  of  Virginia  were  filling  nearly  one-half 
of  the  positions  of  honor  and  trust,  civil  and  military,  Rich- 
mond thought  that  all  should  be  thus  filled.  No  soldier, 
no  sailor,  no  jurist,  no  statesman,  who  did  not  hail  from 
their  State  was  ever  admired  or  spoken  well  of.  No  army 
but  General  Lee's  and  no  troops  in  that  army  other  than 
Virginians,  unless  they  happened  to  be  few  in  number,  as 
was  the  case  of  the  Louisianians  and  Texans,  was  ever 
praised. 

"A  skirmish  in  which  a  Virginia  brigade  was  engaged 
was  magnified  into  a  fight,  an  action  in  which  a  few  were 
killed  was  a  severe  battle,  and  if  by  chance  they  were 
called  upon  to  bleed  freely,  then,  according  to  the  Rich- 
mond papers,  troops  from  some  other  State  were  to  blame 
for  it,  and  no  such  appalling  slaughter  had  ever  been  wit- 
nessed before. 

"  This  indiscriminate  praise  had  a  very  demoralizing 
effect  upon  the  Virginia  troops.  They  were  soon  taught 
that  they  could  make  a  reputation  and  save  their  skins  by 
being  always  provided  with  an  able  corps  of  correspond- 
ents. 

"  The  favoritism  displayed  by  several  superior  officers 
in  General  Lee's  army  was  unbounded.  But  then  we  know 
that  the  slaps  and  bangs  of  a  harsh  step-mother  may  have 
a  less  injurious  effect  upon  the  characters  of  some  children 
than  the  excessive  indulgence  of  a  silly  parent. 


ON   THE    WAR-PATH.  275 

"  The  war  histories  teach  that  in  Longstreet's-  assault, 
his  right  division  (Pickett's)  displayed  more  gallantry  and 
shed  more  blood  in  proportion  to  the  number  engaged, 
than  any  other  troops  on  any  occasion  ever  had.  Now  if 
gallantry  can  be  measured  by  the  number  and  percentage 
of  deaths  and  wounds  and  by  the  fortitude  with  which  the 
casualties  are  borne,  then  there  were  commands  engaged 
in  this  assault  which  displayed  more  gallantry  than 
Pickett's. 

"Who  knows  anything  of  this  battle  to  whom  the 
name  of  Virginia  is  not  familiar? 

"  To  how  many  does  the  name  of  Gettysburg  suggest  the 
name  of  Tennessee,  Mississippi  and  North  Carolina,  who 
suffered  terribly  and  their  courage  remained  unimpaired? 
There  were  two  Mississippi  regiments  engaged,  which  had 
between  them  109  men  killed  on  the  field.  Picket's  dead 
numbered  not  quite  fifteen  to  the  regiment.  The  five 
North  Carolina  regiments  of  Pettigrew's  Division  bore 
with  fortitude  a  loss  of  229  killed.  Pickett's  fifteen  Virginia 
regiments  were  fearfully  demoralized  by  a  loss  of  224  killed. 
Virginia  and  North  Carolina  had  each  about  the  same  num- 
ber of  Infantry  engaged  in  this  battle.  There  was  375 
Virginians  and  G96  North  Carolinians  killed. 

"In  some  commands  of  our  army  the  habit  of  '  playing 
possum  '  prevailed.  When  a  charge  was  being  made,  if  a 
fellow  became  badly  frightened,  all  he  had  to  do  was  to 
fall  flat  and  play  dead  until  his  regiment  passed.  After- 
wards, he  could  say  that  the  concussion  from'  a  shell 
stunned  him.  Troops  addicted  to  this  habit  stood  higher 
at  home  and  abroad,  if  their  correspondent  could  use  his 
pen  well,  than  they  did  in  the  army. 


2*6  ON   THE    WAR-PATH. 

"Was  it  arrogance  or  was  it  ignorance  which  always 
caused  Pickett's  men  to  speak  of  the  troops  which  marched 
to  the  front  on  their  left  as  supports? 

"An  order  was  issued  that  they  should  be  supported  by 
a  part  of  Hill's  Corps,  and  these  troops  were  actually 
formed  in  their  rear  but  subsequently  placed  on  their  left 
before  the  charge  was  made. 

"Our  army  could  fight;  could  and  did  fight  and  conquer 
without  their  assistance.  They  and  their  whole  corps  did 
comparatively  little  fighting  at  Second  Manassas.  Neither 
they  nor  any  part  of  their  corps  fired  a  shot  at  Chancellors- 
ville,  and  it  is  no  exaggeration  to  say  here,  that  Pickett's 
men  did  not  kill  twenty  of  the  enemy  at  Gettysburg. 

"The  front  line  of  troops  which  does  the  fighting  is 
always  known  as  'the  line.'  The  troops  in  the  rear  to 
give  moral  support  and  practical  assistance,  when  neces- 
sary, is  in  every  known  body  of  troops  called  the  support- 
ting  line  or  simply  '  supports.' 

"Pickett's  division  had  Kemper's  on  the  right  and  Gar- 
nett's  on  the  left  with  Armisted's  marching  in  the  rear  of 
Garnett's. 

"  Pettigrew's  formed  one  line  with  Lane's  and  Scale's 
brigades  of  Pender's  Division  under  Trimble  marching  in 
the  rear  of  its  right  as  supports. 

"  How  many  supports  did  Pickett's  people  want? 

"  The  Federals  are  said  to  have  occasionally  used  three. 
Even  one  with  us  was  the  exception.  Ordinarily,  one 
brigade  of  each  division  was  held  in  reserve  while  the 
others  were  fighting  in  order  to  repair  any  disaster. 

"  To  show  bow  a  falsehood  can  be  fortified  by  art,  I  saw 


Otf   THE   WAR-PATH.  277 

at  the  Philadelphia  Centennial  a  very  large  and  really  fine 
painting  representing  some  desperate  fighting  at  the  so- 
called  "  Bloody  Angle."  Clubbing  with  muskets,  jabbing 
with  bayonets  and  firing  off  cannon  at  mighty  short  range 
as  the  order  of  the  day.  Of  course,  I  knew  that  the  sub- 
ject of  this  "historical  picture"  was  founded  upon  a 
myth.  I  had  always  been  under  the  general  impression 
that  while  many  of  Pickett's  and  a  few  of  Pettigrew's  men 
were  extracting  the  extremities  of  certain  under  garments 
to  be  used  there  as  white  flags,  not  a  small  part  of  them 
were  keeping  up  a  scattering  fire. 

"  While  before  this  picture,  a  gentleman  standing  near 
me,  exclaimed:  '  Tut!  I'll  agree  to  eat  all  the  Yankees 
Pickett  killed.' 

"  Entering  into  a  conversation  with  him,  I  learned  that 
he  had  been  at  Gettysburg,  and  had  fought  in  Gordon's 
Georgia  Brigade,  and  that  he  did  not  have  a  very  exalted 
opinion  of  Pickett's  men.  As  our  Georgia  friend  was 
neither  remarkably  large  nor  hungry-looking,  several  per- 
sons stared  at  him  on  hearing  his  remark.  That  he  did 
exaggerate  to  some  extent  is  possible,  for  I  have  since 
heard  that  among  the  dead  men  in  blue,  near  where 
Armisted  fell,  there  were  six  who  had  actually  been  killed 
by  musket  balls. 

"  Pettigrew's  North  Carolina  Brigade  carried  into 
action  on  the  first  day,  2,200  officers  and  men  and  lost  in 
killed  and  wounded  660,  or  thirty  per  cent. 

"  After  every  sharp  fight,  when  another  is  expected,  a 
certain  number  straggle  or  play  sick,  even  among  the  best 
troops.  Say  that  fifteen  to  the  regiment  or  sixty  for  the 


278  ON   THE    WAR-PATH. 

brigade  were  absent  from  these  causes,  then  there  were 
carried  into  the  buttle  of  the  third  day  1,480  and  their  loss 
was  445,  or  again  thirty  per  cent. 

"In  Colonel  Fox's  '  Chances  of  Being  Hit  in  the  Battle  ' 
lie  gives  a  list  of  twenty-seven  Confederate  regiments  which 
had  the  most  killed  and  wounded  in  any  battle  of  the  war. 

"  The  2Gth  North  Carolina  (the  common  clay)  heads 
this  list  at  Gettysburg  with  588.  Not  one  regiment  from 
Virginia,  of  the  liner  material,  is  named  in  this  list  of 
twenty-seven.  North  Carolina  comes  first  in  the  list  with 
six  of  these  regiments  and  Mississippi  next  with  five,  arid 
two  of  those  five  met  with  their  loss  with  Pettigrew  at 
Gettysburg.  The  North  Carolina  Brigade  had,  in  killed 
and  wounded,  1,105,  which  is  an  average  to  the  regiment 
of  27G.  This  North  Carolina  Brigade  met,  on  the  first  day, 
the  famous  'Iron'  Brigade,  which  was  coiisidered  the 
flower  of  its  corps,  and  many  old  soldiers  say  that  your 
1st  Corps  did  the  fiercest  fighting  on  that  day  that  they 
ever  experienced.  These  two  brigades,  fairly  matched  as 
they  were  in  the  war,  like  two  game-cocks  in  the  pit,  did 
the  bloodiest  fighting  in  the  war.  The  records  show  this, 
and  yet  with  the  records  accessible  to  all  men,  Swinton,  a 
Northern  historian,  in  the  brilliant  description  that  he 
gives  of  the  assault  of  the  third  day,  says:  'That  this 
grand  Heth's  Division,  commanded  by  Pettigrew,  were  all 
raw  troops,  who  were  only  induced  to  make  the  charge  by 
being  told  that  they  had  militia  to  fight,  and  that  when  the 
fire  was  opened  upon  them  they  raised  the  shout  "  The 
Army  of  the  Potomac,"  and  broke  and  fled.' 

"  Are  Pickett's  stragglers  responsible  for  this  state- 
ment? 


ON  THE  WAR-PATH.  279 

"  Pickett's  left  and  Pettigrew's  and  Trimble's  right 
reached  the  crest.  Men  from  five  brigades  entered  the 
lines,  but,  in  the  nature  of  things,  not  a  brigade  on  the 
field  was  in  condition  to  repel  a  determined  attack. 
When  two  regiments  of  Stannard's  Vermont  Brigade  moved 
out  to  attack  our  right  and  enfilade  our  whole  line, 
Kemper's  Virginia  regiment  did  not  chance  to  meet  them. 

"Pettigrew  and  Trimble  suffered  most  because  longer 
under  fire  and  having  to  march  farther. 

"Both  Northern  and  Southern  historians  have,  without 
exception,  perhaps,  down  to  the  present  time  given  not 
only  most  conspicuous  prominence  to  General  Pickett's 
Division,  but,  generally,  by  the  language  used,  have 
created  the  impression  among  those  not  personally  ac- 
quainted with  the  events  of  that  day,  that  Pickett's  did  all 
the  hard  fighting,  suffered  the  most  severely,  and  failed  in 
their  charge  because  not  duly  and  vigorously  supported  by 
the  troops  on  their  right  and  left.  It  might  with  as  much 
truth  be  said  that  Pettigrew  and  Trimble  failed  in  their 
charge  because  unsupported  by  Pickett,  who  had  been 
driven  back  in  the  crisis  of  their  charge  and  was  no  aid  to 
them.  With  equal  truth  it  may  be  termed  Pettigrew's 
charge  instead  of  Pickett's. 

"I  have  always  thought  that  Pickett's  Division  was  the 
most  indifferent  body  of  troops  in  General  Lee's  army. 

"  The  fifteen  regiments,  according  to  Longstreet,  car- 
ried into  the  charge  officers  and  men,  4,900.  It  is  most 
probable  that  they  numbered  over  5,500. 

"  The  'brave  and  magnificent,'  when  they  experienced 
a  loss  of  fifteen  to  the  regiment,  became  sick  of  fighting, 
as  their  number  surrendered  shows. 


280  ON  THE   WAR-PATH. 

"One  regiment  of  the  42nd  Mississippi  'Cowards/ 
after  it  had  met  with  a  loss  of  sixty  killed  and  a  propor- 
tionate number  wounded,  concluded  that  it  was  about  time 
to  rejoin  their  friends.  Another  regiment  of  '  Cowards/ 
the  2Gth  North  Carolina,  after  it  had  suffered  there  a 
greater  loss  than  any  of  the  2,700  Federal  and  Confederate 
regiments  ever  had,  came  to  the  same  conclusion.  The 
five  North  Carolina  regiments  had  more  men  killed  here 
than  Pickett's  fifteen  regiments  had. 

"  The  surrender  of  soldiers  in  battle  is  often  unavoid- 
able, but  I  never  knew  a  body  of  troops,  other  than  Fick- 
ett's, who  prided  themselves  on  that  misfortune.  Nearly 
2,000  of  the  'brave  little  division'  ran  away  from  Get- 
tysburg. They  were  demoralized  and  ready  to  run,  and 
ran  and  kept  running  till  the  high  waters  of  the  Potomac 
stopped  them.  As  they  ran,  they  shouted  that  they  were 
all  dead  men,  that  Pettigrew  had  failed  to  support  them 
and  that  their  noble  division  had  been  swept  away.  The 
outcry  they  made  was  heard  in  all  Virginia  and  its  echo  is 
still  heard  in  the  North. 

"  After  we  recrossed  the  Potomac,  it  was  ascertained 
that  Pickett's  'dead  men'  had  drawn  more  rations  than 
any  division  in  the  army.  Their  subsequent  behavior  up 
to  their  defeat  and  rout  at  Five  Forks,  showed  that  they 
never  got  over  their  experience  at  Gettysburg. 

"  Of  course  there  were  exceptions,  but  the  general  rule 
was  that  troops  who  suffered  most,  themselves  inflicted  the 
greatest  loss  on  the  enemy  and  were  consequently  the  most 
efficient.  It  was  the  custom  in  some  commands  to  report 
every  scratch  as  a  wound  and  in  others  to  report  no  man 


ON   THE   WAR-PATH,  281 

as  wounded  who  was  fit  for  duty.  The  most  accurate  test 
for  courage  and  efficience  is  in  the  number  killed. 

"  Now,  I  would  not  have  it  inferred  from  anything  I 
have  said  that  I  intend  to  reflect  upon  all  the  Virginia  In- 
fantry. The  fact,  that  from  Fredericksburg  to  the  close 
of  the  war,  among  the  dead  upon  the  various  battle-fields, 
excepting  that  of  Gettysburg,  comparatively  few  repre- 
sentatives from  the  Virginia  Infantry  were  to  be  found,  is 
not  always  necessarily  against  their  credit.  It  was  not  for 
them  to  say  whether  they  were  to  advance  or  be  held  back. 
Their  duty  was  to  obey  orders. 

"  Not  long  ago  a  New  York  magazine  contained  an 
elaborately  illustrated  article  descriptive  of  the  Gettysburg 
battle-field.  As  long  as  the  writer  confines  himself  to 
natural  scenery,  he  acquits  himself  creditably ;  but  in  at- 
tempting to  describe  events  he  flounders  fearfully.  Of 
course,  Pickett's  men  advance  ' alone.'  'There  was  a  ter- 
rible hand-to-hand  battle  at  the  Bloody  Angle.  Double- 
day's  troops  lost  twenty-five  to  forty  per  cent.,  and  the 
slaughter  of  the  Confederates  was  fearful,Garnett's  Brigade 
alone  having  over  3,000  killed  and  captured.'  This 
is  Northern  history.  The  facts  are,  as  I  have  endeavored 
to  show,  Pickett's  men  did  not  advance  *  alone ;'  there 
was  no  terrible  battle  inside  the  enemies  works  ;  Double- 
day's  troops  did  not  lose  their  twenty-five  to  forty  per 
cent.  Not  one  regiment  in  Doubleday's  or  Gibbons'  after 
the  shelling  lost  one-fourth  of  one  per  cent.  Gar- 
nett's  Brigade  carried  into  the  fight  less  than  2,000 
and  brought  out  a  very  considerable  fragment.  It  did 
have  78  killed  and  324  wounded.  With  singular 


282  ON   THE    W A II- PATH. 

inappropriateness,  Webb's  Philadelphia  Brigade  and  several 
other  Federal  organizations  have  erected  monuments  to  com- 
memorate their  gallantry  upon  the  third  day's  battle-field. 
It  would  appear  that  they  should  have  been  erected  upon  the 
spot  where  this  gallantry  was  displayed.  Itdoes  not  require 
much  courage  to  lie  behind  a  stone  wall  and  shoot  down 
on  the  enemy  in  an  open  field  and  then  to  run  away  as  it 
and  other  troops  in  its  vicinity  did  when  that  enemy 
continued  to  approach.  But  while  it  does  not  add 
to  their  fame,  it  is  not  to  their  discredit  that  they  did 
give  way,  for,  however  much  discipline  and  inherent 
qualities  may  extend  it,  there  is  a  limit  to  human  en- 
durance, and  they  had  suffered  severely.  Webb's  Brigade 
in  the  three  days  having  lost  forty-nine  per  cent. 

"  If  there  ever  haveb  een  troops  serving  in  a  long 
war,  who  never  on  any  occasion  gave  way  till  they  had  lost 
as  heavily,  they  were  superior  to  any  in  Napoleon's  or 
Wellington's  armies. 

"  The  loss  in  the  British  Infantry  at  Salamanca  was  only 
twelve  per  cent.  That  of  the  Light  Brigade  at  Balaklava 
was  only  thirty-seven  per  cent.;  that  of  Pickett's  only 
twenty-six,  and  they  were  ruined  forever.  It  is  true  that 
the  North  Carolina  Brigade  of  Pettigrew's  Division,  both 
on  the  first  and  third  day,  lost  thirty,  or,  in  all,  sixty,  per 
cent,  in  the  battle  of  Gettysburg,  and  a  Mississippi  bri- 
gade nearly  as  much;  but  both  of  these  organizations  were 
exceptionally  fine  troops,  and  it  is  almost  certain  that  even 
their  spirits  would  have  been  appalled  had  their  loss 
reached  seventy-five  or  eighty  per  cent.  And  yet  one  of 
these  brigades  had  a  regiment,  the  Twenty-sixth  North 


ON  THE    WAR-PATH.  283 

Carolina,  which,  with  morals  unimpaired,  met  with  a  loss 
of  eighty-five  per  cent.  Governor  Vance,  now  the  hon- 
ored senator  from  the'  old  North  State,  was  its  first  colo- 
nel. Whether  any  other  regiment  in  our  army  could  have 
done  this,  I  know  not;  but  this  I  do  know,  that  if  there 
was  such  another  in  either  army,  or  in  all  the  armies, 
Northern  or  Southern,  it  did  not  equal  the  '  common 
clay'  of  the  old  North  State." 

"They digged  a  pit, 
They  digged  it  deep; 

They  digged  it  for  their  brothers. 
But  it  so  fell  out  that  they  fell  in 

The  pit  that  was  digged  for  th'  others." 

And  now,  thanking  our  Rebel  friend  for  his  interesting 
and  instructive  story,  we  will  take'  the  Club  away  from 
Gettysburg. 

Practically,  the  war  closed  at  Gettysburg,  July  4,  1863, 
with  General  Grant's  capture  of  Vicksburg  and  Pember- 
ton's  army  on  the  same  day. 

Here  the  anaconda  of  secession  met  with  its  death-wound.. 
The  backbone  of  the  serpent  was  here  broken.  Its  head 
and  tail  lived  for  over  a  year  after;  and,  though  dangerous 
if  approached  too  closely,  it  was,  in  a  manner,  altogether 
helpless  and  at  the  mercy  of  the  great  crowds  that  had 
been  gathered  about  to  witness  its  death-throes.  Generals 
Grant  and  Sheridan  stoned  and  hammered  it  to  death  as 
it  tried  to  escape  through  the  wilderness  of  Spottsylvania, 
Mine  Run,  Five  Forks,  Petersburg  to  Appomattox;  but, 
practically  the  continuance  of  the  war  after  Gettysburg 
and  Vicksburg  was  in  the  nature  of  a  crime.  It  is  said 
General  Lee  would  have  been  glad  to  have  made  terms  at 
this  time. 


284  ON    THE    WAU-1'ATII. 

I  have  frequently  heard  18G4  and  18G5  soldiers  criti- 
cise General  Meade  and  the  Army  of  the  Potomac  for  not 
following  up  General  Lee  after  Gettysburg,  with  the  state- 
ment that  if  Grant  hud  been  there,  Lee  never  would  have 
gotten  away.  To  this  I  reply,  why  did  not  General  Grant 
follow  up  General  Lee  at  once  when  he  took  command? 
He  waited  almost  a  year  before  following  him,  until  his 
army  was  recruited  and  he  had  three  to  Lee's  one  and 
everything  he  desired  in  the  way  of  support  before  he 
moved  on  Lee  at  the  Wilderness. 

We  will  escort  our  Travel  Club  over  a  line  of  Lee's 
retreat  from  Gettysburg,  driving  along  the  old  pike, 
through  the  mountains  to  Chambersburg,  Pa.,  thence  to 
Hagerstown and  the  Potomac  at  Falling  Waters.  At  this 
point  we  again  strike  General  Braddock's  war  trail  over 
which  he  was  guided  by  Washington  along  the  route  since 
known  as  the  National  Pike,  leading  westward  through 
Cumberland,  Maryland,  to  Fort  Necessity  and  Fort  Du- 
quesne,  or  Pitt,  at  the  confluence  of  the  Alleghany  and 
Monongahela,  which  form  the  Ohio  river,  where  now 
stands  Pittsburg.  Within  a  circle  of  say  one  hundred  miles 
nronnd  Washington  City,  may  be  found  pretty  nearly  all 
the  important  historical  places  of  the  nation. 

Beginning  with  the  early  settlement  at  Jamestown,  we 
have  the  Colonial  period,  as  well  as  the  Revolutionary, 
from  the  signing  of  the  Declaration  at  Philadelphia  to  the 
final  surrender  at  Yorktown.  Also  the  birth-place,  home 
and  tomb  of  Washington  and  of  many  other  prominent 
leaders  in  the  debates  of  Congress;  the  duelling-grounds 
at  Bladensburgh ;  the  sacking  of  the  Capitol  by  the 


OK  THE   WAR-PATH.  285 

British  in  1812  ;  Fort  McHenry  in  Baltimore  ;  and  later, 
the  principal  events  of  the  "War  of  the  Kebellion  were 
enacted  between  Richmond  and  Gettysburg,  nearly  all 
within  the  radius  of  100  miles.  In  coming  years,  the  stu- 
dents of  history  will  visit  the  bloody  war  trail  that  we  have 
been  traveling  over,  the  Peninsula,  Richmond,  Freder- 
icksburg,  Chancellorsville,  Wilderness,  Spottsylvania,  Ap- 
pomattox,  Manassas,  Antietam  and  Gettysburg. 

As  we  drive  over  South  Mountains  we  see,  in  the  dis- 
tance, the  Heights  at  Harper's  Ferry,  which,  by  the  way, 
is  another  of  the  many  historic  points  about  here.  It  was 
the  scene  of  John  Brown's  raid,  the  first  of  the  war.  The 
fact  that  General  Lee,  then  a  colonel  in  the  U.  S.  cavalry, 
was  the  officer  in  the  command  of  the  Government  troops 
there  is  generally  lost  sight  of. 

All  the  Army  of  the  Potomac  will  recognize  the  pic- 
tures of  this  picturesque  place.  Most  of  us  have  been  here 
several  times.  When  General  Banks  was  in  command 
here,  his  army  was  so  often  advanced  down  the  valley 
and  compelled  to  fall  back  again  to  this  base  that  the  boys 
called  it  ''Harper's  Weekly"  instead  of  Harper's  Ferry. 

My  mother  was  born  on  what  subsequently  became  the 
Antietam  battle-field,  while  your  guide  first  saw  the  light 
close  by  on  the  north  side  of  Mason  and  Dixon's  line  in 
Pennsylvania,  almost  within  sight  of  the  historic  ground 
hereabouts,  and  is,  therefore,  somewhat  familiar  with  the 
country  from  which  he  has  wandered  far;  but  his  mind 
returns  to  the  old  ground,  led,  perhaps,  by  some  trace  of 
that  instinct  which  the  lower  animals,  even  fishes  of  the 
sea,  follow,  the  philosophy  of  which  has  not  been  clearly 
established. 


286  ON    THE    W  A 11- PATH. 

I  was  a  scout  through  this  country  during  the  first  of 
the  war,  when  Patterson's  army  of  three  months'  men  was 
encamped  here,  confronting  Gen.  Joseph  E.  Johnston.  I 
recall,  as  if  it  were  but  yesterday,  my  hunt  for  head- 
quarters, to  which  I  had  been  ordered  to  report.  Soldiers, 
— gay  and  happy  boys  of  1861,  apparently  out  for  a  holi- 
day,— were  to  be  seen  everywhere,  strolling  about  the 
roads  in  squads,  or  lounging  under  the  shade  of  trees,  or 
filling  arm-chairs  on  the  neighboring  house  porches. 
Toward  sundown  the  great  attraction  to  the  many  lady 
visitors  that  crowded  the  camps  was  the  dress  parades. 
Seemingly,  the  adjacent  swards  became  alive  with  march- 
ing troops  forming  for  the  parade,  each  preceded  by  a 
band.  It  appeared,  from  the  noise,  as  if  every  company 
had  a  bass  drum  in  those  early  days.  A  Eebel  officer  once 
told  me  that  they  were  able  to  make  a  close  estimate  of 
our  force  by  the  number  of  bass  drums  they  heard. 

One  of  the  most  impressive  scenes  which  I  have  wit- 
nessed was  that  of  the  chaplain's  prayer  at  dress  parade 
during  those  early  days. 

Imagine  a  regiment  of  a  thousand  men  in  line,  fully 
equipped,  standing  at  "parade  rest"  alongside  of  this 
Rubicon,  or  river  of  death,  under  the  shadow  of  the  great 
mountains  about  Harper's  Ferry  ;  their  uncovered  heads 
reverently  bowed,  their  jaunty  little  fatigue  caps  hung  on 
the  muzzle  of  their  guns  ;  the  band  plays  "Old  Hundred" 
or  the  "Doxology,"  and,  perhaps,  hundreds  of  voices 
involuntarily  join  in  the  singing  of  this  grand  old  hymn 
that  is  sung  in  Heaven.  In  the  field  the  chaplains  did  not 
make  so  much  of  a  show,  though  they  were  sometimes  quite 


OK  THE   WAR-PATH.  287 

useful  otherwise.  They  were  entitled  to  a  horse,  and  on 
this  account  were  generally  appreciated  on  the  march  by 
some  lazy  or  tired  line  officer,  who  affected  sickness  that 
he  might  operate  on  the  parson's  sympathy  and  borrow  his 
horse.  In  camp  their  greatest  labor  was  spent  in  efforts 
to  prevent  falling  from  grace  in  the  wicked  society  of  their 
mess. 

The  chaplain  was  the  regimental  postmaster.  In  addi- 
tion to  this  handling  of  the  mail,  he  was  supposed,  also,  to 
be  a  sort  of  professional  letter-writer  for  those  who  could 
not  write  their  own  letters  to  fathers  and  sweethearts. 

In  those  days  our  letters  came  in  gaily  illuminated 
envelopes.  Flags  and  mottos  almost  covered  them.  A 
popular  style  of  envelope,  in  the  early  days,  showed  a 
cannon,  in  the  northeast  corner,  belching  forth  fire,  the 
cannon  ball  in  sight,  while  the  cannoneers,  with  remarka- 
ble indifference,  stood  at  attention.  They  were  always 
addressed  to  Company,  Regiment,  Brigade,  Division  and 
Corps,  so  that  wherever  we  went  the  letters,  like  Mary's 
lamb,  were  sure  to  follow.  On  one  occasion,  while  execu- 
ting a  rapid  change  of  base,  our  mail  facilities  became 
demoralized,  and  for  some  days  we  did  not  get  a  letter. 
At  every  opportunity  the  boys,  who  had  become  quite 
nervous  over  the  prolonged  delay,  would  appeal  to  the 
good  chaplain  for  a  letter  from  home.  Failing  to  get  it, 
they  invariably  began  to  fire  questions  as  to  the  cause  of 
the  failure  or  endeavor  to  get  some  explanation.  It  was, 
of  course,  part  of  the  business  of  the  parson  to  comfort 
and  encourage  the  men.  He  did  all  he  could  in  this 
direction,  but,  in  the  army,  patience  soon  ceases  to  be  a 


288  ON   THE    WAR-PATH. 

virtue,  even  with  preachers.  The  chaplain  became  tired 
of  answering  so  many  questions.  The  same  stereotyped 
reply,  day  after  day,  "I  do  not  know  anything  about  the 
mails,"  finally  irritated  him  so  that  he  shut  himself  up 
in  his  tent  and  refused  to  see  anyone.  He  was  advised  to 
place  a  printed  notice  on  his  quarters  to  the  same  effect,  so 
that  all  anxious  inquirers  could  see  for  themselves  and  not 
annoy  him.  He  finally  procured  the  board  top  of  a  cracker 
box  and,  with  a  piece  of  charcoal  from  his  camp  fire,  wrote 
in  plain  letters  the  following  notice,  and  nailed  it  to  a  tree 
in  a  conspicuous  place. 

"The  chftjilain  don't  knoiv  any  tiling  about  the  mails." 

A  wag  coming  along,  observing  the  sign  and  also  the 
piece  of  charcoal,  which  he  picked  up  and  dryly  added 
this  amendment  right  under  the  chaplain's  words  : 

"And  don't  care  a  damn." 

As  I  previously  explained,  the  narrative  of  some  of  the 
actual  experiences  of  a  boy  during  the  war  was  published, 
generally  at  the  time  of  their  occurrence,  notably  in  the 
New  York  Tribune,  Philadelphia  Press  and  the  paper  of 
my  home  at  Pittsburg.  Subsequently,  these  were  collected 
and,  with  some  additions,  appeared  in  a  weekly  trade  paper 
in  Washington  City,  devoted  to  the  pension  business  of  a 
claim  agent.  They  paid  liberally  for  the  weekly,  instal- 
ments, the  oral  agreement  being  that  the  story  should  be 
printed  in  book  form,  and  that  I  was  to  be  paid  a  royalty 
per  copy.  The  matter  became  popular  among  the  .old  boy 
readers,  who,  no  doubt,  realized  that  the  writer  was  "thar 
or  tharabouts."  They  declined  to  publish  it  in  book  form 
and  with  the  usual  dog-in-the-manger  policy  attempted  to 


ON  THE   WAR-PATH.  289 

* 

prevent  others  from  doing  so.  I  was  not  at  all  ambitious 
to  have  my  name  appear  in  the  matter;  in  fact,  it  was  my 
especial  request,  for  business  reasons,  that  the  boy  should 
remain  "incog."  and  only  be  known  by  his  nom  de plume 
of  "0.  K." 

To  my  surprise,  after  he  had  obtained  nearly  all  the 
copy  and  the  first  instalment  appeared,  the  editor  declined 
for  "  business  reasons,"  to  permit  even  my  nom  de  plume 
to  appear  at  the  head  of  my  own  articles.  He  did  not,  as 
he  said  to  me,  claim  any  rights  as  author,  and  I  do  not  wish 
to  be  understood  as  charging  so  brilliant  a  writer  as  that 
editor  with  an  attempt  to  rob  a  poor  soldier  boy  of  the  little 
glory  attaching  to  the  original  of  the  story;  but  the  facts 
are  indisputable  that  a  majority  of  persons  were,  by  infer- 
ence, at  least,  led  to  believe  that  the  story  originated  in 
that  office.  Of  course,  this  claim  could  not  be  openly  estab- 
lished and  was  subsequently  abandoned,  when  the  testi- 
monials and  corroborations  began  to  come  to  the  office  by 
thousands  from  influential  sources.  I  was  in  no  way 
recognized  by  the  editor  or  the  proprietor  of  the  paper  ; 
in  fact,  a  systematic  effort  was  made  to  ignore  me,  even  to 
misrepresenting  me  personally  to  some  old  friend  who 
called  at  the  office  of  publication.  I  was  generally  informed 
by  influential  comrades  that  the  same  course  had  been  pur- 
sued towards  Si  Klegg,  Pittinger  and  others. 

The  matter  supplied  was  hastily  prepared  amidst  the 
duties  of  a  newspaper  worker,  and,  in  the  nature  of  things, 
were  quite  crude  and  imperfect.  I  was,  in  fact,  indifferent 
and  careless  as  to  results.  In  the  mercenary  revision  of 
such  matter  the  editor  took  unusual  liberties  with  my 
manuscript,  to  which  I  strenuously  objected.  And  it  has 


i>90  OK   THE    \VAK-PATH. 

• 

IMJCII  my  desire  to  correct,  in  "  On  the  War-path,"  some  of 
these  revisions. 

In  this  connection  I  beg  to  present  the  following  from 
the  G.  A.  U.  Record,  of  Boston,  as  well  as  the  letters  of 
(Jen.  Fitz-John  Porter  and  Col.  Carswell  McClellan,  which 
explain  and  speak  for  themselves,  without  in  any  way 
affecting  the  truthfulness  of  the  facts  as  originally  stated: 

G8  WEST  SIXTY  EIGHTH   STREET. 

XK\V  YORK,  Jan.  30,  1*S9. 
MAJ.  .1.  ().  KKKBKY,  Washington,  I).  ('. 

Dear  Sir:  I  am  obliged  for  your  letter.  I  can  appreciate  the 
situation  in  which  you  stood,  when  preparing  your  "  Hoy  Spy,"  and 
the  unfortunate  influences  you  may  have  been  under  connected  with 
the  press. 

I  am  not  sorry  for  your  work,  so  far  a.s  an  injury  to  me — you 
injured  yourself  more  than  me,  even  in  the  minds  of  many  of  my 
enemies.  I  shall  l>e  glad  to  see  your  other  work.  I  hope  it  will 
come  before  I  pass  to  another  sphere. 

Your  letter  has  been  forwarded  to  Long  Island. 

Undoubtedly,  as  a  telegraph  operator,  through  whom,  during 
the  war,  many  important  messages  must  have  passed,  you  must  have 
many  points  of  interest ;  but  you  will  have  to  be  sure  that  your 
memory  is  correct  when  referring  to  authorities.  Wishing  you  suc- 
cess, I  am,  Yours  respectful!}', 

F.  J.  POUTER. 

218  VIRGINIA  AVENUE, 

ST.  PAUL,  Jan.  29,  1890. 
MAJ.  .1.  O.  KEKIJEY.  WASHINGTON,  D.  C. 

My  Ikfir  Sir:  Yours  of  the  23d  has  been  duly  received,  and  I 
must  thank  you  for  having  taken  my  criticism  of  the  "  Boy  "  in  such 
good  part. 

I  have  not  overlooked  the  fact  that  the  blue  pencil  which  "  pre- 
pared and  seasoned  "  your  work  "for  a  certain  trade,"  is  very  evi- 
dent. In  truth,  it  is  tliat  very  fact  against  which  I  would  protest. 
To  it  is  due  most  of  the  wrong  done  gallant  men  who  gave  their 
best  days  to  the  service  of  the  country,  and  have,  in  return,  received 
only  censure  from  the  "  ignorant,  intolerant  judgment"  (see  Charles 
Sumner)  of  a  public  fed  by  a  certain  trade  with  food  "  prepared  and 


Off  THE  WAR-PATH.  291 

seasoned  "  to  suit  the  trade  ambitions.  ( I  refer,  of  course,  to  the 
trade  politicians,  and  have  no  intention  of  being  personal.) 

That  you  appreciate  this  fact  is  evident  from  the  pages  of  the 
"  Boy,"  and  I  have  already  congratulated  you  thereon.  Perhaps  my 
studies  of  late  years  have  made  me  somewhat  sensitive  as  to  injustice 
done  to  General  Porter,  but  I  need  not  to  enlighten  an  old  newspaper 
correspondent  as  to  the  avidity  of  the  public  for  shams  and  preju- 
dices, or  repeat  any  of  the  trite  expressions  in  regard  to  truth  over- 
taking falsehood.  The  sale  of  a  book  is  not  always  the  best  measure 
of  its  worth,  especially  as  historic.  Witness  Grant's  "  Memoirs." 

I  take  it,  "The  Boy,"  while  not  unmindful  of  the  immediate 
returns  received  for  his  work,  hopes  in  his  work  to  outlive  the  mere 
present,  and  would  not  object  to  being  received  by  future  readers  in 

company  with and .  Therefore  I  have  ventured  on  my 

criticism  of  his  work. 

The  original  charge  which  Senator  Logan  attempted  to  revive 
against  General  Porter,  in  connection  with  the  Patterson  campaign, 
was  based  on  the  testimony  of  Col.  R.  Butler  Price  (Report  Comm. 
on  Cond.  of  War,  37th  Cong.,  3d  Sess.,  Part  2,  p.  187,  et  seq.)  and 
the  testimony  of  Col.  Craig  Biddle  (same  vol.),  both  of  whom  were 
aides  on  General  Patterson's  Staff,  and  neither  of  whom  give  any 
occasion  for  the  charge  their  testimony  has  been  distorted  to  sustain. 
The  facts  in  the  matter  are  all  clearly  stated  by  general  Patterson  him- 
self, in  a  narrative  of  the  campaign  in  the  valley  of  the  Shenan- 
doah,  in  1861 

If  you  have  not  seen  this,  I  have  no  doubt  Mr.  Fitzgerald  can 
supply  you,  or  tell  you  where  you  can  find  a  copy.  A  brief  outline 
of  the  whole  matter  is,  that  General  Johnston,  at  Winchester,  was, 
as  he  says  in  his  report,  "in  position  to  oppose  either  McClellan  from 
the  West,  or  Patterson  from  the  Northeast,  and  to  form  a,  junction  with 
General  Beauregard  wJien  necessary."  He  could  stay  at  Winchester 
until  lie  wisJied  to  leave,  and  then  unite  with  Beauregard,  tearing  up 
the  railroad  behind  him  and  laughing  at  pursuit. 

To  order  General  Patterson  to  cross  into  Virginia  and  detain 
Johnston  in  Winchester  to  prevent  his  uniting  with  Beauregard,  was, 
as  General  Porter  once  expressed  it  to  me,  like  ordering  a  man  to  hold 
a  dog  by  the  tail  when  the  dog  was  a  long  distance  off,  and  running 
away.  A  glance  at  the  map  shows  this. 

General  Patterson  appreciated  the  position,  and  wished  to  cross 
the  Potomac  at  Point  of  Rocks  and  take  position  at  Leesburg,  where 
he  would  be  in  position  to  support,  co-operate  or  unite  with  McDowell, 


292  ON  THE  WAR-PATH. 

as  circumstances  might  require.  Instead,  he  was  ordered  to  cross 
above,  and  advance  on  the  Martinsburg  and  Winchester  line,  lie 
was  cautioned  by  the  General-in-Chief  to  "  take  his  measures  there- 
for circumspectly;  make  good  use  of  his  engineers  and  other  experi- 
enced Staff  officers  and  Generals,  and  attempt  nothing  without  a  clear 
prospect  of  success." 

At  Martinsburg,  July  9,  1861,  a  council  of  war,  composed  of 
Colonel  Grossman,  Captain  Beckwith,  Captain  Simpson,  Captain  New- 
ton, Colonel  Stone,  General  Neglcy,  Colonel  Thomas,  Colonel  Aber- 
crombie,  General  Keene  and  General  Cadwalader,  unanimously 
opposed  a  furtlier  advance  on  Winchester,  but,  instead,  advised  the 
flank  movement  to  Charleston,  which  had  been  approved  by  Oeneral 
Scott. 

Captain  Porter  was  not  present  at  this  council,  and  though  the 
opinion  of  the  members  of  the  council  was  well  known  at  the  time, 
five  of  the  number  were  soon  after  made  general  officers.  Is  it  not  then 
rather  ungenerous  to  ascribe  sinister  designs  upon  General  Porter's 
part,  to  a  merely  supposititious  influence  held  by  him  over  General 
Patterson  ?  « 

From  Charleston,  three  days  befoi'e  the  battle  of  Bull  Run,  twelve 
hours  before  Johnston  commenced  to  leave  WincJieste)\  General  Patter- 
son reported  his  condition  to  the  General-in-Chief  and  asked,  "  Shall 
I  attack  ?"  No  answer  was  returned.  Two  days  later  (July  20th),  he 
telegraphed,  "  With  a  portion  of  his  force,  Johnston  left  Winchester 
by  the  road  to  Millwood,  on  the  afternoon  of  the  ISth,  his  whole  force, 
32,500. 

With  this  information  in  hand,  McDowell  pushed  out  to  Bull 
Run,  and  Oeneral  Patterson  was  allowed  to  receive  his  first  news  of  the 
battle,  which  he  supposed,  from  General  Scott's  dispatches,  to  have 
taken  place  on  the  18th,  through  tlie  newspapers  on  Monday,  July  22d. 
Thisisahasty  and  rather  jumbled  sketch,  hinting  some  points 
well  worth  your  looking  up.  The  implication  of  responsibility 
resting  upon  Gen.  Porter  for  malign  influence  upon  the  Antietam 
field  rests  on  similar  bald  suppositions.  The  pages  of  Messrs.  Nicho- 
lay  and  Hay's  so-called  history  will  not  hold  their  own  against  the 
evidence  of  the  Record  and  of  notorious  facts.  I  commend  to  your 
serious  consideration  the  works  alluded  to  by  Gen.  Porter  in  the 
printed  letters  to  Nicholay  and  Hay  enclosed  in  my  last;  and  after 
you  have  carefully  examined  Gen.  Patterson's  side  of  the  story  of 
the  first  Shenandoah  campaign,  I  think  you  will  be  willing  to  modify 
the  views  you  have  expressed  through  the  "Boy." 


ON  THE  WAR-PATH.  293 

T  return  Gen.  Porter's  note,  as  you  may  wish  to  keep  it.  I  trust 
you  will  pardon  the  candor  of  my  criticism  for  the  sake  of  the  inten- 
tion. Very  truly  yours, 

CAESWELL  MCCLELLAN. 

The  critical  letters  of  Gen.  Fitz-John  Porter  and 
Col.  Cars  well  McClellan,  a  ^relative  of  the  Commander- 
in-Chief  and  a  distinguished  Staff  officer. of  the  Army 
of  the  Potomac,  explain  themselves  and  require  no 
comment,  except,  that  in  presenting  them  to  the  club 
readers,  it  does  not  necessarily  imply  that  they  reflect  my 
own  opinions.  Neither  disputes  my  facts.  It  will  be  appa- 
rent to  all  that  the  only  object  is  that  prompted  by  an  unself- 
ish desire  to  afford  to  both  sides  a  fair  hearing.  Readers 
may  form  their  own  conclusions  from  the  facts  stated. 
"  I  beg  to  take  you  all  along  on  the  flying  trip  I  recently 
enjoyed  in  a  Pullman  palace  car,  from  the  Potomac 
through  the  historic,  picturesque  and  once  devastated, 
but  now  rich,  Shenandoah  valley.  We  will  not  have  time 
to  stop  at  Winchester,  the  Luray  Caverns,  the  Natural 
Bridge,  or  to  visit  the  graves  .of  Lee  and  Jackson  at  Lexing- 
ton, but  hasten  along  through  the  thriving  city  of  Roan- 
oke,  where  we  take  the  East  Tennessee  road,  leading  still 
on  the  ' '  war-path,"  to  the  western  armies. 

At  Knoxville,  Tenn.,  I  spent  a  couple  of  delightful 
weeks,  revisiting  scenes  that  were  at  once  pleasantly  and 
at  the  same  time  sorrowfully  familiar  to  me.  It  may  be 
remembered,  that  it  was  here,  when  this  country  was 
occupied  by  the  Confederates,  that  the  "  boy  "  scout  was 
kindly  cared  for,  while  sick,  in  the  family  of  Col.  Craig, 
then  the  prothonotary  of  the  county.  In  this  cultivated 
family,  I  was  fortunate  in  meeting  the  charming  young 


294  ON   TITE    WAR-PATH. 

ladies  mentioned  in  the  story  of  the  adventures  of  the 
"boy;"  Miss  Maggie,  MiaS  Mary  and  the  pert  little 
Laura.  They  had  only  heard  of  me  once,  through  "  Belle 
Boyd,"  since  my  escape  from  Cumberland  Gap.  At  this 
revisit  after  2G  years,  it  was  my  pleasure  to  meet  all  three 
of  these  ladies  and  a  right  royal  meeting  it  was.  All 
were  married.  "Our  Maggie"  to  an  ex-Confederate  and 
a  most  genial  gentleman.  They  have  no  children  and 
travel  considerably  for  their  healths,  spending  the  winters 
in  Florida  where  they  own  an  extensive  orange  grove  and 
beautiful  lake  which  has  been  named  "Geno  "in  honor 
of  the  boy's  heroine. 

"  Lake  Geno  "  (so  named  by  the  owner  in  honor  of  the 
"Boy  Spy's"  war  heroine,  Geuo  Wells),  is  a  beautiful 
sheet  of  pure,  clear  water,  about  thirty  acres  in  extent,  is 
the  Spring  Lake,  or  head  of  a  chain  of  similar  lakes  dot- 
ting this  entire  region,  varying  in  size  from  thirty  acres  to 
seven  miles,  which  empty  into  the  St.  Johns. 

Mary,  the  Rebel  of  the  family  is  the  wife  of  a  Tennessee 
judge  who  was  an  ex-Federal  officer  and  always  a  Unionist. 
They  have  quite  an  interesting  family. 

Laura,  the  little  dark-haired  beauty  is  the  wife  of  a  fine 
gentleman  and  now  lives  at  Atlanta,  Ga.  Their  only 
daughter  Josie,  a  sweet  girl  of  fifteen,  resembles  her 
mother  as  I  once  knew  her. 

The  many  pleasant  days  spent  in  this  vicinity  with 
Maggie  by  my  side,  driving  in  her  own  buggy,  viewing  the 
once-familiar  scenes,  will  make  some  interesting  chapters 
to  be  told  in  the  sequel  "  Geno."  The  story  could  not  be 
told  under  these  covers. 


ON   THE   WAR-PATH.  295 

This  lady's  poor  health  has  somewhat  injured  her  gay 
spirits.  She,  too,  like  Geno,  lived  between  the  lines  and 
can  a  wondrous  story  tell  of  the  war  in  the  West  that  may 
equal  "Geno"  in  the  East.  Though  her  wavy  hair  is 
slightly  gray  in  front,  she  still  retains  the  same  pretty 
brown  eyes  and  sweet  Southern  accented  voice  and  manner. 

We  sang  together  the  old  songs,  not  forgetting  "  When 
you  and  I  were  young,  Maggie." 

I  also  visited  the  Brownlow  house.  Mrs.  Brownlow 
still  lives  there. 

My  visit  to  Knoxville  occurred  during  the  glorious  fall 
weather  of  1889,  about  the  time  of  the  reunion  at  Chat- 
tanooga and  Kenesaw  which  organized  the  Chiekamauga 
association.  It  will  be  remembered  that  on  this  occasion 
the  speech  of  Col.  Will  Henderson,  an  able  lawyer  of 
Knoxville,  was  delivered,  in  which  he  used  the  compari- 
son since  so  widely  quoted  relating  to  the  results  of  the 
war:  "  The  war  was  of  greater  benefit  to  us  than  to  you 
folks  up  north  as  it  rid  us  of  slavery  and  started  our 
growth  of  manufactures."  Or  as  the  nigger,  who  had  a 
law-suit  about  the  ownership  of  a  mule,  which  was  decided 
against  him,  said:  "  You  gained  the  law-suit,  but  I  done 
got  the  mule  yit." 

Colonel  Henderson  was  a  gallant  ex-Confederate.  One 
of  Miss  Maggie's  early  friends  and  admirers. 

It  is  proposed  by  the  Chiekamauga  Association  to  ask 
Congress  to  appropriate  $250,000  to  purchase  of  the  States 
of  Tennessee  and  Georgia,  7,600  acres  of  land,  embracing 
the  battle-field,  to  be  formed  into  a  national  military  park 
to  remain  under  control  of  the  Secretary  of  War.  It  is 


296  ON   THE    WAR-PATH. 

hoped  that  the  people  of  the  East,  notably  of  the  Army  of 
the  Potomac,  may  be  induced  to  emulate  this  worthy 
example  of  the  Western  army  and  ask  Congress  to  add  a 
little  to  the  acreage  of  the  Marye  Cemetery  at  Fredericks- 
burg,  and,  perhaps,  purchase  the  strip  of  bloody  ground 
thereabout,  upon  which  not  only  the  most  blood  of  the  war 
was  shed,  but  that  over  which  "was  shown  the  greatest 
heroism  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  race.  This  might  be  made  to 
include  the  home  and  grave  of  the  mother  of  Washington 
and  become  a  shrine  convenient  to  the  Capital. 

In  this  connection  I  beg  leave  to  introduce  to  the  club 
a  Western  Rebel  who  replies  to  some  statements  made  by 
General  Boynton,  a  newspaper  warrior  of  Washington, 
I).  C. 

The  Battle  of  Chickamauga  Without   Taffy,  as  told  by  an 
old  Confederate,  Capt.  R.  F.  Powell^  of  Georgia. 

I  reproduce  it  simply  for  the  sake  of  the  historic  inci- 
dents it  mentions,  and  as  a  Rebel's  conception  of  what  he 
terms  "an  exposition  of  the  wanton  and  base  falsehoods 
that  invariably  characterize  the  Yankee  historian's  writings 
on  these  events."  Captain  Powell  is  a  loyal  citizen  of  the 
United  States,  but  he  thinks  the  time  for  apologizing  and 
regretting  things  that  can  not  be  helped  has  passed,  and  his 
letter  is  written  along  that  line.  He  says,  among  other 
things- 

"General  Boynton,  a  very  pretty  writer,  has  a  very 
nice  romance,  which  he  calls  facts,  published  in  the 
Washington  army  paper,  claiming  the  battle  of  Chicka- 
mauga as  a  great  'Union  victory/'  says  the  objective  point 
was  Chattanooga,  and  Rosecrans  got  there  first. 


ON  THE   WAR-PATH.  297 

"That  reminds  me  of  the  little  boy  who  ran  home 
with  another  boy  after  him,  his  face  scratched,  his  clothes 
torn,  his  hair  standing  on  end,  and,  in  fact,  bearing  all 
the  marks  of  a  boy  who  had  been  soundly  thrashed. 

•''His  brother  said  to  him,  'Why,  Ned,  what  is  the 
matter  ?  What  are  you  running  for  ?'  Says  Ned  :  '  Now, 
Bud,  do  you  reckon  I'm  goin*  to  let  that  Jones  boy  hit  me 
the  last  lick  and  beat  me  to  the  house,  too  ?  No,  I  aint/': 

After  quoting  from  General  Boynton,  Captain  Powell 
says  : 

"The  first  and  most  striking  feature  of  the  battle,  as 
General  Boynton  represents  it,  is,  that  in  every  assault, 
in  every  death-grapple  in  all  parts  of  the  field,  the  Feder- 
als were  always  successful,  and  whenever  there  was  a  colli- 
sion the  Confederates  outnumbered  the  Federals  at  least 
two  to  one ;  the  Confederates  were  always  fresh  and  the 
Federals  always  tired — and  this  is  the  case  with  every  bat- 
tle described  by  Northern  writers  that  I  have  ever  read. 
They  may  admit  at  the  outset  that  their  army  is  as  large 
as,  and  possibly  a  little,  just  a  very  little,  larger  than  ours, 
but  where  the  battle  rages  fiercest,  and  deeds  of  heroism 
are  performed,  either  by  individuals  or  corps,  it  is  always 
the  same  story — the  single  'Yank'  drives  off  three  or  four 
ambushed  'Johnnies/ one  company  of  'our  boys'  holds 
the  position  against  a  regiment  of  '  Eebs/  a  regiment 
(always  somebody's  celebrated  regiment)  dashed  at  a 
brigade  of  Confederates  and  after  a  brave  resistance  on 
the  part  of  the  Rebs  they  broke  and  fled  in  the  wildest 
confusion — and  so  on  up  to  division  and  corps. 

"  Some  of  their  most  candid  writers  throw  in  a  good  deal 


298  ON   THE    WAR-PATH 

of  'taffy/  and  speak  of  'the  splendid  troops  of  Cheat- 
ham/ or  'Hood's  brave  veterans,' and  others  even  admit 
that  we  had  occasional  spurts  of  '  dash/  and  made  some 
magnificent  assaults,  but  such  are  never  described  without 
a  sequel,  and  that  sequel  is  always"  the  same — a  grand 
counter-move  of  the  Federals  ending  in  the  total  discom- 
fiture of  the  brave,  but  unfortunate  Southerners. 

"The  second  prominent  feature  of  Gen.  Boynton's 
Chickamauga  is  his  powerful  effort  to  reconcile  his  state- 
ments. Crittenden's  Corps  occupied  Chattanooga  on  the 
9th  of  September  and  left  a  brigade  to  hold  it,  and  yet  it 
was  not  occupied  by  the  Federals  on  the  20th,  although 
the  brigade  was  still  there  and  no  Confederate  troops  had 
been  there  since  Crittenden  took  possession.  But  the 
weakest  point  in  the  article  is  his  attempt  to  have  Bragg 
outnumber  Rosecrans  all  day  Saturday  by  the  arrival  of 
Buckner's  and  Longstreet's  troops,  and  yet  he  has  Long- 
street's  fresh  troops  pouring  in  all  day  Sunday,  and  finally, 
he  and  Col.  Duflfield  both  agreed  that  Bragg's  whole  army 
of  65,000  men,  half  of  them  fresh  troops,  says  Duflield, 
attacked  Thomas's  single  corps  late  Sunday  evening  and 
utterly  failed  in  the  attack,  and  that  Thomas  held  his 
position  until  dark.  Now,  if  both  armies  had  about  or 
nearly  the  same  number  of  men — as  they  say,  about 
65,000  each — and  one-half  of  Bragg's  army  was  fresh 
Sunday  evening,  late,  then  he  had  surely  been  fighting 
65,000  men  for  nearly  two  days  with  32,500  men,  and 
during  all  that  long  and  terrible  struggle,  Gen.  Bragg  was 
so  fortunate  as  not  to  lose  a  single  man,  and  had  his  entire 
army  intact  Sunday  evening  when  he  struck  Gen.  Thomas' 
Corps. 


ON  THE  WAR-PATH.  299 

"The  fact  is,  Bragg  had  fewer  men  than  Rosecrans,  and 
one-half  of  Longstreet's  Corps  was  not  in  the  fight  at  all, 
having  arrived  too  late. 

"  The  battle  of  the  19th  was  indeed  a  draw  battle,  but 
on  the  morning  of  the  20th  the  Federals  seemed  to  have 
lost  spirit,  and  were  driven  by  the  Confederates  from  the 
start,  and  we  were  only  checked  by  the  massing,  on  a  high, 
double  ridge,  of  Thomas'  Corps  and  other  troops  that  had 
not  run  away,  to  the  number  of  25,000  in  all,  says  Colonel 
Duffield,  a  Northern  writer  of  considerable  prominence. 

"  It  is  true  that  several  assaults  on  Thomas  at  this  point 
were  repulsed  with  considerable  loss  to  the  Confederates. 

"I  think  the  battle  was  ended  about  5  o'clock  p.  M.,  by 
the  breaking  of  Thomas'  Corps  and  the  surrender  of  1,500 
Yankees  upon  the  summit  of  the  ridge  that  Thomas  had 
so  bravely  held. 

"  It  is  perfect  bosh  to  talk  about  Thomas  holding  his 
position  until  dark,  and  then  'withdrawing'  to  Rossville. 
His  corps  was  broken  into  atoms  long  before  dark,  and 
fled,  totally  demoralized. 

"  I  can't  remember  the  exact  time,  but  I  know  it  was 
long  before  dark,  because  I  ordered  my  company  to  stack 
arms  on  the  very  ground  occupied  by  Thomas'  Corps,  and 
exchange  their  Belgian  guns  for  Enfield  rifles. 

"  I  remember,  also,  picking  up  a  fine  Colt's  repeating 
rifle  on  the  very  summit  of  the  ridge  held  by  Thomas' 
Corps,  inside  their  temporary  works;  also  talking  to  the 
prisoners,  and  they  were  certainly  very  despondent,  saying 
that  Chickamauga  was.  a  dark  day  for  the  Union,  etc.,  and 
this  was  long  before  sundown.  There  wasn't  a  Yankee 


300  OX   THE    WAR-PATH. 

soldier  within  ten  miles  of  the  battle-field  at  dark,  except 
the  dead,  wounded  and  prisoners.  We  captured  30,000 
rifles,  sixty-eight  cannon,  and  10,000  prisoners.  Great 
'Union  victory'! 

"  The  fact  is,  this  '  old  soldier'  has  told  and  read  so 
many  big  tales  of  his  own  prowess  and  his  daring  attacks 
on  'great  masses'  and  'overwhelming  numbers'  of 
'  Rebs,'  in  which  he  was  always  victorious,  that  he  has 
made  his  children  believe  them  all,  and  he  believes  about 
half  of  them  himself.  Our  side  has  been  silent  for  a  long 
time,  and  the  witnesses  are  thinning  out  year  by  year,  and 
it  is  time  our  people  were  putting  in  their  testimony  and 
placing  on  record  for  our  children  and  children's  children 
to  read  when  we  are  gone.  The  'Yanks'  know,  and  we 
know,  that  we  won  four-fifths  of  the  pitched  battles  of  the 
war,  and  that  in  point  of  numbers  their  soldiers  were  three 
and  four  to  one,  their  railroad  facilities  as  twenty  to  one, 
their  rations  as  twenty  to  one,  their  clothing  as  five  to  one. 

"We  had  only  one  force  to  oppose  to  such  fearful  odds, 
and  that  was  pluck,  indomitable,  unwavering  pluck,  and 
it  took  four  years  of  steady  fight  for  us  to  wear  ourselves 
out  whipping  them." 

It  will  be  again  understood  that  in  thus  presenting  a 
Confederate  to  the  club,  I  do  not  endorse  the  statements 
that  he  makes.  It  is  simply  a  disposition  to  offer  some 
new  light  on  an  old  subject  from  the  other  side.  As  I 
have  taken  opportunity  to  introduce  the  same  element  in 
the  East,  I  thought  it  advisable  to  stir  up  the  Western 
boys  a  little. 

Our  own  story  of  the  war  has  been  told  and  retold 


ON  THE   WAR-PATH.  301 

thoroughly.  No  harm  can  come  from  a  friendly  discus- 
sion of  the  war  with  ex-Confederates,  and  much  more  good 
may  result  "  fighting  "  them  over  with  our  former  antago- 
nists than  in  fighting  them  over  among  ourselves.  The 
agitation  will  serve  to  bring  out  the  true  story  from  both 
sides. 

We  have  nothing  to  fear,  nothing  to  regret,  nothing  to 
be  ashamed  of. 

And  now  we  have  reached  our  journey's  end,  and  your 
guide,  with  hat  in  hand  and  a  cordial  hand-shake  to  each 
individual  member  of  the  Travel  Club,  reluctantly  says 
goodbye,  with  many  thanks  for  your  kind  attention  and 
forbearance.  I  hope  we  may  all  meet  around  the  winter's 
fireside,  and,  perhaps,  hear  the  wonderful  story  of  "  Geno," 
a  romance  of  secret  service  and  secret  love,  during  the  war, 
that  is,  indeed,  stranger  than  fiction. 


NOTE.— I  should  be  glad  to  meet  in  Washington  any  visiting  member  of 
the  club,  or  to  reply  to  any  interrogation.  A  letter  addressed  to  Washing- 
ton will  always  reach  me,  wherever  I  may  be.— J.  O.  KERBEY. 


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